Ignis Everto
by aemenangel
Summary: In Overton, Nevada, a group of college friends decide to play with an Ouija board, unknowingly conjuring a demon. Sam and Dean Winchester head over to the town only to find out that this demon is unlike any other demon they had ever come across.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Shimmering light could be seen from outside the small house. The curtains danced softly in the wind that entered the room through the open window. Soft sounds emanated from within the small room where three girls sat around a table, all having their hands on something in the middle of the table. Candles were placed strategically throughout the room, far enough away from flammable objects, but close enough to the table to be able to see what they were doing. Around the table, the three young women sat, their gazes transfixed on the Ouija board in their midst.

Accompanied by giggles, the planchette on the Ouija board moved over to the letter J. The only red-head in the room, Sondra, heaved a sigh. "This is ridiculous," she said.

Marsha, a petite brunette, grinned but didn't take her eyes off the pointer. It was now moving slowly to the next letter in its answer. "So who's pushing it?" Marsha asked.

Her two friends both muttered the words, "Not me." Excitement surged through her body as the pointer continued its path to another letter. When it stopped at the A, she giggled again. "It's going to spell out Jason, I'm sure," she said with laughter in her voice.

To her left, her friend Jaenelle groaned. "Please, Marsh. First of all, our question didn't include anyone outside of us three. Secondly, Jason's a prick. Why would you even consider going out with him?" Jaenelle's blue eyes met Marsha's brown ones and Marsha saw the dislike her friend had for the guy she liked. Lifting a shoulder in a shrug, Jaenelle added, "Just stating the obvious here."

Marsha rolled her eyes and looked back down at the board, ignoring her friend's blatant opinion on Jason. She followed its circuit back to the letter E. Frowning, she was about to say something when Sondra beat her to it. "Jae?" Sondra said, a speculative tone to her voice. She looked up at Jaenelle. "You don't think it's going to spell out your name, do you?"

The first trickle of fear crept up Marsha's spine. No one spoke as the pointer moved from the E to the N, back to the E and then to the L. Eyes widening and heart pounding in her chest, Marsha looked at her friend. Jaenelle sat ramrod straight, frightened eyes fixed on the board.

"What did we ask again?" Sondra squeaked.

Marsha let out a frightened laugh. "Who of us will rule the world."

The pointer was making its way back to the letter L and the fear Marsha felt quadrupled. She released the pointer and jumped up, knocking the chair over as she did. Sondra had released the pointer at the same time and now the only one still touching it was Jaenelle.

"Jaenie, let go," Sondra said. When Jaenelle raised frightened eyes to them, she nearly shouted, "Let go, Jaenelle! This is not funny anymore!"

"I'm trying!" Jaenelle shouted back, her arms jerking, but her fingers still on the pointer.

Sondra and Marsha both took hold of one of Jaenelle's arms and pulled, trying to release her fingers from the pointer. When it seemed their efforts were futile and Jaenelle's fingers still touched the small wooden planchette, Sondra looked from the Ouija board to Jaenelle and then bolted from the room. Marsha yelled after her, refusing to believe that Sondra had really deserted her friends. Turning back to Jaenelle, she saw that the pointer was now moving faster.

It went from the Y to the O, to the U, to the W, until it spelled out, "You will be mine."

"Oh God," Marsha gasped. She took hold of Jaenelle's arms again and tried to pull her away, but they didn't budge an inch. When she focused her attention on Jaenelle's face, she saw the tears trickling down her friend's cheeks.

"What's going on?" Jaenelle cried. "I can't let go. I try, but I can't let go!"

Eyes roaming swiftly across the room, Marsha tried to find something that would help get her friend loose. "You're not tricking me, are you?" she asked, fear making her heart pound against her chest.

"Why would I do that?" Jaenelle yelled. "My fingers won't leave the pointer. You tried to get me off it and it didn't help! Even with super-glue the pointer would still come off the board!"

Covering her face with her hands, Marsha tried to think clearly, tried to figure out what was going on. "I don't know what to do!" she yelled. "I don't know what's going on!"

Jaenelle, now standing and clearly struggling to get free of the Ouija board, was silently crying. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled with the board. "This can't be happening," she whispered over and over again.

Marsha, in the mean time, stood next to Jaenelle, staring out into space. She couldn't think of a single thing to do to help Jaenelle. Her mind was blank and her vision unseeing. She didn't feel it when the room got hotter. Even when an orange and red image appeared in front of her, she stayed in the daze. Words floated towards her, but she didn't understand them. Nothing seemed to penetrate the bubble she had created around herself. It was only when Jaenelle started screaming that she jerked out of the daze.

She blinked several times before her brain could make sense of what she was seeing. Standing still as a board, she watched as Jaenelle now struggled with the…thing…that had her in its grip. Her friend's hands were loose form the Ouija board, but her wrist was now enclosed by a scabby looking hand that ended in 3 inch long black nails. As her eyes travelled up the arm, she saw nothing that looked even remotely human.

Its entire body was covered by orange, red and black scabs. As she stared at its…skin…she had to swallow hard. It looked as if it was made out of lava. Not that she'd ever seen lava upclose, but from what she'd seen on television, it looked a lot like it. Her gaze travelled up to its face and whimpered softly. Bright red eyes looked back at her from within a face that was so twisted, it could've only come from a fantasy story about demons.

As her brain focused on the word, Marsha knew what she was looking at. This was something that she'd only read about, the thing that people should fear the most. A minion of Satan, the devil, stood in her room and she could do nothing but stare.

Its fiery gaze was upon Jaenelle, who was struggling to get free of its grip. Where the thing touched Jaenelle's skin, blisters formed. Seeing it and registering it, the smell of burning flesh suddenly filled Marsha's nostrils, making her gag. Upon hearing her, the demon shifted its attention to her.

"You are of no use to me," it said but didn't say. It was as if she felt the thing in her mind, in her soul. It gripped her heart in fear. Whether consciously or unconsciously, Marsha didn't know, but she knew that if she so much as moved a muscle, it would come after her.

"You have no skill I could use," it said as it seemed to burn away her mortal husk and looked past it to see what lay beneath. When it looked back at Jaenelle, Marsha could breathe again. She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath, but when she breathed out the stale air, she breathed in air that held the essence of smoke, but was completely devoid of the actual thing.

"Will you serve me?" it asked Jaenelle.

Jaenelle, tear-stained cheeks raised up to the demon, cried out, "NO!" The demon gripped her wrist tighter and Marsha thought that, if he should put more pressure on her wrist, its bone would be broken.

"Just do it," Marsha whispered. She had no idea what was going on, but she wanted the demon out. She wanted to forget everything that had happened. There was no way this could be real, but there it was looking at her: a real demon. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that she was, in essence, betraying her friend, but she was in too much of a daze that she didn't fully realize it.

Somehow, the softly spoken words reached Jaenelle's ears. Her friend looked at her with an expression that screamed she thought Marsha was an idiot. Which, in retrospect, she was. Why would anyone want to serve a demon? Not her, that was for sure. She didn't have the strength to go up against something that evil.

"You will serve me and you will be mine," the demon growled, yanking Jaenelle to her feet.

A combination of fear and rage, Marsha was sure, made Jaenelle snarl at the demon. "No way in hell will I serve you," she snarled.

The demons red eyes glowed brighter. "You think to defy me, human? Your soul is mine. Your powers are mine."

Marsha frowned. Powers? Okay, this was one really weird demon. Powers? The only powers anyone had was…well, strength was a power, wasn't it?

"I will NOT serve you!" Jaenelle screamed. "I might've been demon-bait two years ago but that doesn't mean I'll serve any of you!"

In a mockery of human expressions, the demon raised an eyebrow. Or, it would have looked like that had he had an actual eyebrow. "Then you will suffer until you finally submit to me." His eyes roamed over the room until it fastened on Marsha. "And the suffering starts now."

With a flick of a wrist, the demon did several things simultaneously: he released Jaenelle with such force that she went flying into the wall; burned a spot on Jaenelle's wrist that would leave a nasty burn; and set Marsha's insides on fire.

Frowning, Marsha looked down her body. Flames of fire licked at her clothes, but only her clothes. Everything around her seemed to be safe from the fire. Numb, she continued to stare as the fire spread over her legs and up to her stomach. She kept watching as it continued its ascent to completely cover her.

Before it reached her head, she snapped it up to look at Jaenelle who was staring at her in horror. "Jaenelle," she whispered. Then louder, "Jaenelle!" When the fire reached her neck, the pain came. The numbness was gone, but the pain now touched every part of her. She could feel the blisters forming on her skin where the fire hadn't touched her yet. She could feel the skin on her legs burning, burning, burning.

Her scream, before the fire completely consumed her, was her last.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Dean Winchester sat at the counter, switching his gaze from the newspaper he was reading to the waitress in the skin-tight top. A sly grin spread over his face as he followed her with his eyes, thinking of the things he could do with her that he hadn't done in a while. Ever since Sam had joined him on the hunt, Dean had been celibate. It sucked. Sharing a motel room with his younger brother seriously put a dampener on his sexual prowess.

When Sam laid a few bills on the counter, Dean sighed. So much for a nice…conversation with this particular waitress.

"So where to next?" Sam asked as he finished the last of his coffee. "Any leads?"

Dean sighed again and looked away from the waitress. No reason to torture himself with images that wouldn't happen anyway. He focused on the newspaper and tapped the front page. "Nothing I can make out that's supernatural," he said. "No unexplained deaths, missing persons, or whatever. Nothing."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked. "Maybe you missed something."

He made a face at his brother and suppressed the urge to hit him. Not hard, but just a smack. It would make him feel better, but he decided against it. Better not start a fight while they were trying to work together. "I'm sure," he said, his gaze once again returning to the waitress. Turning to face Sam, he said in a low voice, "We could stay here for a day or two. Rest up a bit. I mean, we've gone up against some heavy lifters these past few weeks with only a day or two in between to catch our breath."

Sam raised an eyebrow and then looked past him. Dean followed his gaze and found his brother looking at the waitress. When he returned his gaze to Sam, he found his brother smirking at him. "And this has nothing to do with the waitress that has caught your eye?"

Clearning his throat, Dean raked a hand through his hair. "Bro, I'm 26. I've got needs, alright? And if I don't fullfill those needs soon, I'm gonna burst."

Sam let out a harsh laugh. "No," he said as he tore the newspaper away from Dean. "We're not staying so you can have sex with someone you don't know. You'll only break the poor girl's heart."

Dean mocked shock. "I wouldn't do that to the girl," he said. Sam just looked at him with an eyebrow raised. Dean admitted defeat. How he ended up being his brother's chauffeur, he didn't know and he didn't like it.

"Fine," Dean growled, yanking the newspaper off the counter. "Let's go."

As he made his way to the door, a sound from the television that stood near the end of the counter floated towards him. He caught half sentences, but that was enough to halt him in his tracks and turn around. He felt more than saw Sam stop next to him and also focus on the television.

"Dana! Turn that up, will ya?" someone shouted from the far end of the room. It seemed like other people had also noticed the disaster that filled up the television-screen and wanted to know what was going on. Dean saw the waitress pick up a remote control and a few seconds later there was sound added to the images.

"The fires that are consuming the houses of Overton, Nevada can not be explained," the field-reporter said into the microphone. "Two days ago it started with one fire, but now the entire town is being plagued by fires that consume homes, memories, but thankfully not people. Families that have been driven from their homes by the fire are all unharmed. They're shaken but otherwise seem perfectly fine." The reporter was silent for a moment as he looked behind him. "The fire department here is not able to control all the fires. Town people are starting to help trying to douse the fires, but there are just too much of them. I've also spoken to the head of the fire department who says that there is no explanation for the occurences. As we speak, someone is looking over the first house that started this all."

Dean raised an eyebrow and half-turned to look up at Sam. "Unexplained fires?"

Sam's eyes glittered and Dean looked away. He knew what his little brother was thinking of. Twenty-two years ago their old house had been set on fire and only a few months ago, Sam's appartment. Dean wondered if these houses really had been completely empty when the fires spread.

"Dad," Sam said so softly that Dean barely heard him.

"Let's go." Dean clapped his brother on the back and continued on his way to the door. At least now they had a destination for where they were going to next.

When he stepped outside, he glared at the harsh sunlight and got his shades out of his pocket. "You know," he said as Sam walked silently behind him, "It could be just an electrical thing that's causing it in that town."

Sam made a sound that said he didn't believe that theory any more than Dean did. "No way, Dean. Those fires… If it was an electrical thing, I don't think it would spread all over town, skipping houses. This is something else. Not a mistake made by man."

Dean sighed. "Yeah, I know." He stopped at the driver's side door. "We gonna check it out?"

Sam seemed thoughtful for a moment and then nodded. "Yeah."

"All right. We'd better get a move on then if we want to get there before night falls," Dean said as he climbed into the car. As he slid into place behind the wheel and started up the car, his cellphone rang. Frowning, he looked at Sam and shrugged. He only had it so he could call for information and stuff; barely anyone had the number.

He pulled the phone from his inner pocket and flipped it open. "Yeah?"

Pause. No other sound but someone breathing. For a second there, Dean's heart soared in the hopes that it was his father. Then another familiar voice whispered over the line, "Dean?"

His heart now stopped beating. He stared straight ahead of him, through the windshield, images crashing through his mind. The voice reminded him of so many things, brought back so many memories he had tried to push to the background. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. "Yeah. Who's this?"

Silence on the other end of the line for a long time, then, "I have a job for you. The kind of job that you specialize in."

He raised an eyebrow and turned to Sam. "Okay. And what kind of job would that be?" Sam frowned at him and he shrugged.

"There's a demon. He's trying to kill everyone in my town. You need to come and help. Please."

Dean turned away from Sam and closed his eyes at her pleading tone. He could picture her holding the phone, speaking into the receiver, her lips moving as she spoke. He remembered everything about her and he could kick himself for it. For two years he had tried to forget all about her. For two years he had succesfully been able to push his memories of her to the background as he went on with his life. Now she was calling him because she needed his help. He swallowed hard again.

"Berkeley, right?" he asked, remembering which college she was attending. "We're on our way to another job in Nevada, but we should be able to get to Berkeley in a few days."

"I'm not at Berkeley anymore," the female voice told him. She paused and he could just picture her biting her bottom lip. She always used to do that.

"Then where are you?"

"Overton, Nevada."

His eyes flew open and shot to Sam. He gave his brother an incredulous look. "The town with all the fires? That's where you are?"

"Yes." A pause where he could only hear her breathing again. "Please, Dean, you have to help. I can't do this on my own. I'm way out of my league here." Pause, again. "You were the only one I could call." He caught the desperation in her voice.

He let out a short, harsh laugh, his heart in his throat. "We were just about to take off into that direction." He tapped the dashboard for Sam to pay attention to and motioned to his brother to take out the map. "We'll be at Overton in a few hours."

"Okay," she said and Dean heard her expelling a shaky breath. "Thank you."

Pushing aside the feelings that had started when he heard her voice, he said, "No problem. That's what we're here for. See you in a few hours." He pressed the disconnect button and flipped the phone closed.

"Who was that? Someone you know?" Sam asked from where he was studying the map. He didn't even look up at his brother.

The engine revved up, drowning out Dean's whispered words. "Someone I knew."

He was quiet while he listened to the cassette that he'd put in the deck. Lynyrd Skynyrd was playing, appropriately singing about Poison Whiskey. He'd like a shot of that at the present time. Hell, he wanted more than one drink of whiskey; he could finish the entire bottle and be blissfully drunk. That way he wouldn't have to think too much about the voice and the girl the voice belonged to. They brought on too many memories.

"Okay, so if we hightail it, we could be there in three hours," Sam said as he looked up from the map. "It's fifteen miles away from the Valley of Fire." Sam let the words sink in with Dean, then continued, "Kind of a coincidence, don't you think? Fifteen miles away from this valley is a town that's being consumed by fire. There might be a connection."

Dean glanced at Sam and then quickly returned his eyes to the road in front of him. "We'll check it out when we get there, but I wouldn't bet on it. This demon is after someone in the town."

Sam frowned. "How do you know that?"

Dean shrugged as best he could while keeping one hand on the wheel. "Logic thinking, Sammy. Why would a demon go after an entire town and not one specific person? Why does it randomly pick houses to burn down?"

"Maybe it's not random," Sam said, "Maybe it's going after certain people."

"You heard the news, Sammy. No one was killed in the fires."

"As far as they can tell, anyway. Maybe someone did die in the fire."

Dean shook his head. "No, I don't think so. This demon is trying to spook someone in the town by obliterating it. It's trying to draw that person out."

"Okay, let's say you're right and this demon is trying to scare the shit out of someone. Why would it do that? Why would it scare someone so badly and not go after that person in the first place and kill it? Can you give me a reason for that?"

Dean kept silent. He couldn't tell Sam about what his instincts were telling him. His younger brother just wouldn't understand. But he knew without knowing how, that this demon was after someone in that town.

"Alright, let's focus on this when we get there. No need to speculate about the how and why just yet," Sam said as he folded the map and put it back inside the dashboard. "So you want to tell me about this person you had on the phone? You sounded like you knew him."

"Her," Dean responded automatically and wished he hadn't.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Her?" He snorted. "Not a girl you slept with? Seriously, Dean, focus on the job, not the carnal pleasures."

Dean's eyes clouded over with anger. "Shut up," he growled.

Sam, taken aback by his brother's anger, sat back in his seat. There was more here than Dean wanted to admit. And even though Sam knew his brother was a flirt, Dean had never once laid a hand on a girl they helped. "Sorry, man," he said, "That just kind of came out."

Dean turned his head to look at Sam for a full second then turned back at the road. Sam thought over the anger that had come from his brother and could only come up with one conclusion; something had happened to the girl. Considering the fact that Dean was always drilling him about Jess, he thought it would be alright to ask Dean what was troubling him.

"So," he said, "What happened?"

"What are you talking about?" Dean all but snarled. Sam was stunned. He had never seen his brother act this way over something that he, Sam, had said.

"With the girl. Who is she? Where did you meet her?" He paused and contemplated. "How the hell did she get your number?"

"She probably tried to call dad and heard his message," Dean answered but didn't say anything else.

Sam glared at Dean. "Talk to me, Dean. What happened?"

Dean cast an angry look at Sam. "I don't want to talk about it." With those words, he reached out to the tape-deck and turned up the volume.

Sam immediately reached over too and turned the volume back down. "No, Dean. You've always been after me to tell you about Jess. Now I'm after you to tell me what happened with this girl." He looked at his brother's rigid posture behind the wheel. "I've never seen you act this way because of a girl. Did she reject you or something?"

Dean snorted. "Yeah, right. Like any woman could say no to me."

Sam smirked. That was his brother, alright. Now he just had to get him to talk about this mystery girl. "So she didn't say no to you?"

Dean's face instantly morphed from an angry expression back to his cocky self. "Hell, no. She," he stopped talking and looked at Sam. "Nice try, Sammy, but I know what you're doing. Reverse psychology, right? Not going to work." He returned his attention back to the road. "There's not much to tell, anyway."

"Then at least tell me where you met her and how. I need to know the background of this before I meet this girl."

Dean mulled it over and decided Sammy was right. He needed to know what had happened two years ago, but not all. Some things were better left unsaid. "Alright," Dean sighed. "Two years ago, right after you left for college, dad and I ended up at Berkeley chasing after a malevolent ghost. It was preying on girls who had lost their mother at a young age. Or, we thought it was a ghost. It ended up being a demon who sort of needed their grief or something." He shook his head. "Dad understood far better than I did what it specifically wanted. What it came down to was that this girl we ended up saving had lost her mother at the age of 10. She'd never really gotten over it and that was what the demon wanted."

"And this is the girl who called you?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded. "Yeah. She was only twenty-two at the time, away from home for the first time. She had postponed going to college since she graduated from high school because she was scared to go away from home. Her father and brother had made her go, telling her that she needed to let go and make something out of her life." He made a sound low in his throat. "Really, her father saying that to her… It's ironic, because he's a recluse. He closed himself off to the world after his wife died."

"How do you know so much about her? It sounds like you two had a lot of time to get to know each other."

"We did," Dean said, his thoughts whirling around in his head. "It took me and dad two months to figure out how to get rid of this demon. We couldn't catch it. It would skip from person to person and we were unable to locate it. Toughest job to date, man."

"So you got to know this girl over a course of two months?" Sam asked. "How?"

"She helped us with research. She majored in computer stuff, so she could dig into websites far better than we could. Plus, she made us stay with her, not wanting us to pay a lot of money to stay in a motel while we were trying to help her. She said that she wanted to help us as much as we were helping her." He smiled for the first time since the phone call. "She was sweet."

Sam knew there was far more to the story than the girl just being sweet, but he didn't push it. Dean was talking and that was all that mattered at that point. "Okay. So you researched the demon and tried to find it for two months. What happened when you finally found it?"

Dean shrugged. "We exorcised it. Dude, that exorcism we did on the plane was nothing compared to the one in Berkeley. It took us 10 hours to get rid of this demon. Dad had found this specific ritual that would get rid of the demon forever, sending it back to hell or wherever it came from." He was silent for a beat, then added, "It almost killed her."

Sam froze. "It almost killed who?" When Dean didn't answer, Sam pushed on. "Dean, come on. Who did it almost kill?"

Pain lacerated through Dean's chest as he thought back to that night. How she had been tied to the chair, screaming and fighting to get loose of the bindings. It had hurt him then to see her like that, possessed by the demon that had been after her. He had been terrified. Not because of the demon, but for her. He had known that if the exorcism had gone wrong, she could've died. All through the night when they were in the cabin somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Dean had known that her father might lose the second woman in his life. Thankfully, it hadn't come to that, but it had been close.

"The demon had possessed her. After all the weeks of trying to locate it, it was right under our noses."

Ice wrapped around Sam's heart. "It was in her all the time?"

Dean shook his head. "No, not all the time. I'd given her a necklace that would protect her from it. The basic demon-repellant stuff, you know? It didn't look good, but at least it kept her safe." Silence for a beat as he remembered, then he added, "Until some drunken frat-boy pulled it off her. God, I wanted to pummel the guy, but dad held me back."

Sam raised an eyebrow. His brother's feelings for this girl must've been intense. He knew Dean would die to protect his family and he did everything he could to save people from the things that went bump in the night, but he never beat up some guy who ripped a necklace off a girl.

"So what happened next?" Sam asked, wanting to know the rest.

"Apparently, the demon had made the transference to her the second the necklace was removed from around her neck. Dad and I were there, we saw her change." Inwardly, Dean shivered. He didn't want to show his fear to his brother. "It was bad, dude. The thing swiped at us and I couldn't do anything. I didn't want to hurt her. Eventually dad managed to grab her and tie her down. We took her to this cabin that was located far away from civilization. That's where we performed the exorcism."

"You got it out of her," Sam stated. "She's alright. She didn't die during it."

"No, but it was close." Dean closed his eyes for a second before remembering he was driving. He opened them again and swerved off the road. Stopping the car, he turned off the engine and turned to Sam. "The demon didn't want to leave her. It kept yelling something about her being special, that it wanted her." He looked out of the windshield and focused his eyes on something Sam couldn't see. "It was hell, Sammy. To see her writhing in pain like that…"

Sam blinked, astonished and weirded out that Dean was being so open about his feelings at the time. Never before had he heard his brother talk like that before. He'd talk about their mom, of course, but other than that, Dean had barely ever shown any emotion when it concerned a case.

"How did she come out of it?"

Dean shook his head, trying to get rid of the images that were burning themselves into his memory again. "Barely. We had to rush her to a hospital saying that she was suffering from a severe fever." He blinked and focused on Sam. "She almost died. The demon tried so hard to hold on that it did something to her. She lapsed into a coma."

"My God," Sam gasped.

"Yeah. Her father and brother arrived the day after and that's when dad decided we had to leave. He didn't want her to be even more traumatized when she woke up and found us there." Dean's face tightened in anger. "So we left. I have no idea how long she was in the coma. I don't know anything."

Sam stayed silent. He couldn't believe his ears. His father and brother had succesfully vanquished a demon and Dean hadn't even told him. But that wasn't his main concern. What he couldn't get over was the fact that his brother was not being as strong as he always pretended to be. Sam knew it was all a front for all the pain that Dean kept buried, but he never spoke about it. It was Dean's way of dealing and he would respect that.

"And now she just called you to ask for your help," he said softly. Dean nodded almost imperceptably. "At least that means she's out of the coma and she's doing good."

Dean shook his head. "She didn't sound good. Plus, she's in the town where the fires are raging." He looked his younger brother in the eye. "She was hunted by a demon before."

Recognition dawned in Sam's eyes. "There might be another one after her."

"Could be," Dean said as he started up the car again. "I say we'd better find out." Putting his foot down hard on the gas pedal, he floored it and they raced off to Overton, Nevada.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Shit," Dean muttered as they drove into the town of Overton, Nevada. Smoke billowed up from several houses on this block. More smoke drifted into the air behind those houses, farther away into town.

Sam's eyes didn't rest on one point long enough for the images to register in his brain. All he could see was destruction, grief and pain. People milled about, some in a daze, others running around trying to help the ones who had lost their houses.

"My God," he whispered, "What the hell did this?"

"Something that we need to take care of, stat," Dean said, a determined expression on his face.

"What can do we here, Dean? Really? We can't do anything to stop these fires. We don't even know what kind of demon we're dealing with."

Dean kept silent as he drove slowly and watched the people around him. He tried to spot that one familiar face, but she was nowhere to be seen. People who walked past the slowly moving car looked at them and he could see the confusion on their faces. What were strangers doing there now if they weren't reporters?

"We'll pretend to be reporters," he said to Sam. "Ask around. See if people saw anything out of the ordinary. Demons need to take over bodies to do things physically. No demon I know of can create a fire out of nothing."

Sam gave his brother a blank look. "We go around and pose as reporters? Dean, this girl called you for help. Don't you think we have to find her first and ask what she knows?"

Dean knew Sam was right, but he didn't want to admit to it. Part of it was his pride, the other part was something he couldn't describe. He didn't want to see her. He didn't want to be reminded of that night two years ago. But most of all he was afraid of what she was going to say to him.

"She didn't give me an address, Sam. I have no idea where she is. So let's just be reporters and ask around."

Sam knew Dean was skirting the truth, but he let it slide. As Dean parked the car, he opened the door and got out, staring at the closest house that was still smoldering. "Do you want to split up or do this together?" he asked.

"Let's split up," Dean said. "We can cover more ground that way and hopefully find the thing faster."

Sam nodded and walked off to the huddled together group of young teenage girls. "Hi," he said as he approached them. "I'm Sam Winchester, reporter. Mind if I ask you a few questions?"

With fear written in their eyes, the girls looked up at him. The oldest looking girl of the group, around the age of 18, sized him up. "Are you really a reporter?"

Sam smiled at her. "This is my first story." He paused, then added, "I'm kind of nervous to be covering this kind of story for my first one, though." He looked around him before letting his eyes rest on the girl again. "It's kind of scary to be walking around in a town that's being plagued by mysterious fires."

"Not that mysterious," one of the other girls said.

He turned his attention to the auburn-haired teenager. "I'm sorry?"

"Everyone knows it started with the Jackson house and everyone knows their son is a pyromaniac. It's obvious he's the one doing it. They just haven't been able to find him yet."

"The Jackson house? That's the first house that burned down?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's the one two blocks down that way," she said and pointed towards the one place in town where there wasn't any smoke. "Kind of hard to miss what with the house being the only one burned down and all."

Sam smiled at the girls again. "Alright. Thanks. You guys take care." They nodded at him and he turned back to the car.

He saw Dean a few houses further down the street, talking to a girl who looked to be in her twenties. By the way Dean was standing, Sam knew his brother was flirting again. No matter what happened, that switch was always turned on when an attractive woman was near Dean, even if he had been feeling like complete crap a few minutes before.

Sam continued to watch as Dean apparently thanked the woman and watched her walk away. Sam took a breath and yelled, "Dean!" He waved him over.

Dean ran to Sam in a leisurely jog. "What?" he asked when he reached Sam.

"I just heard that the first fire was in the Jackson house. Two blocks down that way."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, I heard the same thing." He fished his car keys out of his pocket and walked to the car. "Let's go. See if we can find something there."

Sam sighed but followed after his brother. "You know," he said as he climbed back into the car, "I really think it would be a better idea to find this girl."

"No," Dean muttered.

"And why not? What's your problem, Dean?"

Dean turned an icy stare to his brother. "I already told you I don't want to talk about it. Now drop it. I told her we'd come here and figure this thing out, but I never said anything about meeting up with her. And I'm not planning to."

Now Sam was really puzzled. "Dean, she called you because she knows it's a demon. Maybe she knows which demon."

The icy stare remained on him, giving Sam the creeps. "No."

As Dean started the car, Sam hit his hand on the dashboard. "Dammit, Dean!" he yelled, startling his brother. "What the hell's wrong with you? You don't want to see this girl, fine. I'll go look for her if it pains you that much to see her." He bent toward his brother. "But I am not going to let your egotistical actions get in the way of finding this demon and killing it." He sat back. "Now tell me what the hell's going on with you or find the girl."

Dean stopped the car and stared out of the driver's side window. After a long silence, he finally said, "I really don't know where she lives. The last time I saw her she was in a hospital, comatose. Dad made us leave before I could even find out if she'd live." He turned his head to look at Sam. "And her name's Jaenelle."

"Jaenelle," Sam repeated. "You have a last name to go with that?"

"Hamilton. Her dad's name is Damon. Her brother's called Malachi." Off seeing Sam's amused expression, Dean shrugged. "Her mom had a thing for unique names or something."

Sam snorted. When Dean let go of the clutch and started driving again, he asked, "Where are we going?"

"Looking for a diner. I'm hungry." Before Sam could say anything in protest, Dean held up his right hand and added, "And they probably have a phonebook where we can look up Jaenelle."

Sam nodded. He really wanted to know what was going on with Dean, but he didn't want that cold look to enter his brother's eyes again. It scared him to see his brother's usually warm eyes show such coldness. So, for now, he'd do anything to keep him in a good mood because he was almost 100 percent sure that once they found Jaenelle, his brother would grow cold again.

"So," Sam said after a while. Dean raised his eyebrows, but didn't look at him. A sly smile formed on Sam's face. "Was she hot?"

Dean let out a bark of laughter and turned his head to Sam. "Dude, that's my line."

Sam shrugged. "I'm borrowing it." When Dean didn't answer his question, he asked him again, "So? Was she?"

Dean laughed again and shook his head. "Yeah, she was hot."

"What did she look like? Blonde, tiny, big boobs?"

Dean laughed louder, his hands loosening on the steering wheel. "What has gotten into you, Sammy?"

He smirked at Dean. "I take after my older brother."

Laughing again, Dean didn't notice the diner on their right hand. Sam, however, did. "There's a diner right over there," he said, pointing at it. "Park the car and we'll see if the place has a hot waitress."

Chuckling, Dean pulled the car over and parked it in front of the diner. As he opened his door, he glanced over his shoulder at Sam and said, "Seriously. What's gotten into you?"

Sam didn't answer as he opened the door of the diner and stepped in. It was completely empty save for a young man in his early twenties, cupping his hands around a coffee mug. "Hi," he smiled as Dean entered behind him. "Are you open?"

The waitress, a woman in her forties, nodded at him. "Yes, we are, dear. What can I get you?"

"Two coffees and a menu, please," he smiled at her.

"Coming up," she smiled back at him.

Sam took a seat at a booth by the window and Dean slid in across from him. He draped his arm over the top of the plastic booth and gave his little brother a searching look. "What?" Sam asked.

"You feeling okay? I've never heard you talk like that before."

Sam chuckled, but didn't answer. Instead he said, "So what did she look like? You didn't tell me."

Dean rolled his eyes. "She's just a little shorter than me, I'd say about 5'8". Long, dark brown hair. Big, blue eyes. Body of an athlete."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "And you've seen enough of her body to know that?"

Dean gave his brother a droll stare. "She ran track and played basketball."

"Oh," Sam said with a smirk.

The waitress came with two cups of coffee for them and placed the menus in front of them. "You're new in town," she said. "You reporters?"

Sam nodded. "Yes, ma'am. We're here to cover the fires."

"I figured as much. This is the only note-worthy thing to happen in this town since it was built."

He looked up at her, questioningly. "Since it was built? What do you mean?"

She waved it off. "Nothing special, dear. Just those silly stories you hear from back in those days. Stories about werewolves and other made-up things." Sam and Dean shared an amused look. "But none of that is important right now, is it? These fires… No one really knows how they all started."

"Really?" Dean spoke up. "I talked to someone today who said that it was probably the Jackson kid. Said the guy was a real pyromaniac."

The woman snorted. "Donny wouldn't hurt a fly. People just think he's weird because he stays away from them. He's the town's outcast."

Sam smiled a tight-lipped smile. "Outcasts are always the easiest target."

"That they are, dear. Now, I'll let you look over the menu. You're our first customers of the day." With that she turned and left them alone.

Dean looked at the man sitting with his cup of coffee still in his hands. "First customers?"

"Forget it," Sam grinned and leaned his elbows on the table. His face turned serious. "We need to find Jaenelle."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious." Dean stood up and walked over to the counter and leaned in to talk to the waitress. He smiled at the older lady. "Hi. Can I borrow your phonebook for a minute?"

"Of course, dear," she responded with a smile. She walked away from the counter and Dean watched her as she pulled out a thick book from a small cupboard beneath the food outlet. She handed it to him. "Here you go."

"Thanks," he beamed at her and returned to the table. He paused as he sat down and placed the phonebook in front of him. He wanted to tell Sam that they didn't need Jaenelle, that she probably didn't know anything except for the fact that a demon was burning down her town. Instinctively, he knew he was wrong. Jaenelle was smart enough to figure things out on her own and she knew when to call for help.

Opening the phonebook, he searched for the H. "Why don't you choose something for me to eat, Sammy?"

Sam glared at his brother. "It's Sam."

"Sure, Sammy. Whatever you want." Dean lifted his head enough to look at him and give him an evil grin, then a wink before returning his attention back to the phonebook.

Sam sighed and shook his head. Sitting back, he picked up the menu and ran his eyes over it. The typical diner stuff, but nothing that he really wanted to eat. "Anything specific, oh master?" he asked, sarcasm dripping off his every word.

Dean laughed. "No."

Sam blinked and stared at his brother. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I'm not that hungry anymore," Dean said, slowly running his finger down the page he was on.

Rolling his eyes, Sam threw the menu on the table. "Then what the hell are we doing here?"

"I'm looking for the Hamiltons in the phonebook. You're brooding."

Sam scowled. "I do not brood."

Dean looked up and made a face at him. "Oh, you so do."

Feeling the need to smack his brother, Sam instead picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip. He looked out the window as Dean continued to look through the book. "Need glasses to read, Dean?"

"Haha," Dean mockingly laughed. "No. The pages are all so smudged it's hard to make out."

"You need glasses."

"I do not!"

They glared at one another over the phonebook. "Let me see that," Sam growled and pulled the thick book away from his brother.

Dean held up his hands. "Fine. You try to make out that greasy mess." He picked up his own cup of coffee and made a disgusted face as he took a sip. "Dude, they call this coffee?"

"No," Sam absently replied. "It's sludge."

Dean put the cup back down on the table and peered at the page Sam was looking at. "Any luck?"

Sam looked up. "You were right."

Dean smirked. "Told you."

"Whatever. Let's pay for this crap and get out of here, okay? Someone's gotta know the Hamiltons."

Getting up out of the booth, Dean looked out of the window with a smile on his face. Almost immediately, his expression scrunched up into a frown. "Sam," he called softly.

"Yeah?"

"Check it out," he said, pointing at the house across the street from them. Flames shot out of the windows, making the glass explode outwards onto the street. People who were walking by covered their heads with their arms as they tried to run out of the line of fire. Dean swallowed hard when he saw a couple run out of the door of the house, apparently unharmed. Immediately, five men ran towards the couple and dragged them away from the house. The way the men were acting, you'd say there were expecting the house to blow up.

As Sam and Dean continued to watch, the house became engulfed in flames. The fire reached the trees, setting flame to branches and leaves. Dean wanted to run over and do something to stop it, but he knew he couldn't. There wasn't anything he could do about it. The demon had struck again and by the looks of it, he had never come across a demon like this before.

"Oh, no," the waitress gasped, returning Dean's thoughts back to the diner. The older woman stood behind the counter with her hand clutched to her mouth. "Not the Devons," she whispered.

He walked over to her. "Do you know the Hamilton's?" he asked her.

She kept on staring out through the window, looking thunderstruck. Dean snapped his fingers in front of her face and she jerked back. "What?" she said in a high-pitched voice.

"Do you know the Hamilton's? Damon, Jaenelle and Malachi?"

"Yes, I know them. Why?"

"We're friends," Dean said as he grabbed hold of her free hand. "We can't reach them and we're worried about them. Do you know where they are?"

She shook her head. "Last time I saw them, they were being rushed out of their house because the surrounding houses were on fire. I have no idea where they are now."

Sam dropped his head so his chin rested on his cheek. There went their only hope of finding Jaenelle. "Alright, thank you," he said and laid a few bills on the counter.

The woman simply nodded at him as she continued to stare out of the window.

The two walked out of the small diner and stepped silently into the car. Dean looked to his left where the house was still burning. "I can't stand not being able to do anything," he said with a hint of desperation in his voice.

"I know. When we find Jaenelle and she tells us what we're dealing with, we can and will help," Sam said with such conviction that Dean immediately believed him.

"Didn't we pass a motel on the way here?" he asked his little brother.

"I think so. Why? You want to check in now?"

Dean shook his head. "No. I'm thinking they're probably holed up in there."

"Then let's check it out. The sooner we find them, the better." Sam paused as he looked at the burning house. "Is that what our house looked like?"

Dean's heart skipped a beat. When they'd been younger, Sammy had asked such questions a lot until his dad had told him not to ask them again. Dean had only been five at the time of his mom's death, but he remembered everything in vivid detail.

He glanced at the house. "Yeah. Something like that."

Putting his foot down on the gas, he started driving away from the diner and back the way they had come. Hopefully on their way to finding Jaenelle and some answers.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three 

They arrived at the motel a few minutes later. The parking lot was filled with cars and people, people who were crying and clinging to other's in desperation. Sam's heart twinged with sympathy. He knew what it felt like to lose a home to fire, lose the memories you'd collected over the years. He couldn't remember the first time, but he sure as hell remembered the second time. The pain and the loss… They were still a part of him and probably would be forever.

Shaking his head to keep his mind on the situation at hand, he turned to Dean who was looking at all the people around them. He could see his brother's eyes going from one person to the other, trying to spot a familiar face. Finally, he said, "She's not outside."

"Then let's go in," Sam stated and opened his door.

Once outside the car, the emotions of all the people around him seemed to penetrate into his skin. It choked him until he couldn't breathe. He felt the beginnings of tears starting at the corners of his eyes and willed them back. He wouldn't cry. He would be strong. For everyone's sake, he had to be strong. They were getting ready to fight a demon; he didn't have the luxury to break down and cry like he wanted to.

"Sammy," Dean said softly, laying a gentle hand on his back. "You okay?"

Sam took a deep breath and straightened. "Yeah, I'm alright. Let's go." Dean looked at him curiously, but nodded. Side by side, they walked to the entrance of the motel.

The small lobby was packed with people, too. Small children were clutching onto their parents who in turn were holding their kids as if they never wanted to let go of them. "There's so many of them," Sam whispered.

"I know," Dean whispered back. "It's like there's a war going on and we're just on the edge of the battlefield, tending to the wounded." He shook his head. "It's wrong."

"We can fix it, Dean."

Dean closed his eyes. "We will. We'll fix it. This demon is going to pay for what it's done."

When Dean opened his eyes again, he was met with a sight he hadn't expected. He took a step back, right into a young man standing behind him. He turned and opened his mouth to apologize until he recognized someone else, standing right behind the one whose foot he'd stepped on. Dean opened and closed his mouth like a fish, not knowing what to say.

"It's okay," the guy told him. "The place is kind of cramped. I'll probably be limping for the next 30 minutes, but I'll be okay."

Dean swallowed hard and looked at the ground. "Sorry, man," he finally managed to say.

The blonde twenty-something guy chuckled. "Like I said, it's alright. Don't worry about." He looked down, too. "But if these had been my dress shoes, I would've hurt you." Dean let out a nervous laugh.

Sam watched his brother curiously. Dean had never once in his life acted this way. As if he was a deer caught in headlights as the car came barreling his way. Something had spooked Dean and Sam was betting it was Jaenelle. The mystery girl. He was getting really curious as to who this girl was and why Dean was so different when he thought about her.

Looking around him at the people in the room, Sam scanned every face trying to spot the girl Dean had described. He saw a few girls with long, dark brown hair, but none of them had blue eyes or an athletic figure. Frowning, he turned back to Dean and grabbed his shoulder. Dean jumped a few inches into the air.

"Relax," Sam whispered. "What's wrong?"

Haunted eyes travelled up to his. "Nothing," Dean said, "Nothing's wrong."

Completely freaked out now, Sam searched his brother's face. "Dean. What?"

Struggling to breathe, Dean broke away from Sam's hold and made his way to the door. He needed fresh air. Needed open space to be able to breathe. Pushing the door open, it almost collided with a woman trying to get in. She shouted at him, but he didn't hear. He just kept on walking, away from all the people. Away from him.

"Dean!"

He heard Sammy's yell behind him, but still he didn't stop. When he reached the edge of the parking lot and began walking on grass, he started to run. All he could think about was getting away, far away. He couldn't be near him, not yet, not now.

Someone tackled him from behind and he hit the ground hard. Stunned, he didn't move as his attacker climbed off him. He still didn't move when he was turned over onto his back. Sam's face hovered above his.

"What the hell, Dean? Why are you running?"

Dean closed his eyes. He was an idiot. Why had he done that? Why had he shown weakness? He was stronger than that, but instead he had run away from a confrontation he'd been having nightmares about for two years. The worst of all was that Sam had no idea. He had no idea how much Dean had suffered after their dad had made him leave Jaenelle in the hospital.

"Dean," Sam said through gritted teeth. "Talk to me."

Taking a deep breath, Dean sat up slowly. Sam sat down beside him. "Remember me telling you I'm never afraid of anything?" he asked.

"Yeah," Sam answered. "I never believed it."

"You were always the smart one," Dean smiled.

"Talk to me, Dean, or I'm going to kick your ass."

Dean looked up and stared at the motel in the distance. In his mind it quickly faded to the last time he saw Jaenelle in the hospital two years ago. "The day Jaenelle's father came to the hospital, I was sitting with her. He came in, rushed to Jaenelle and just collapsed on top of her. Damon was so afraid he'd lose his daughter. I could feel his pain." He expelled a shaky breath. "Then he noticed me. Man, Sammy, I've never seen anyone as angry as him back then. He didn't do anything, didn't say anything, but I knew he was furious with me."

"Why? You saved his daughter."

Dean smiled bitterly. "He didn't believe it. Damon thought I'd done something to her that had made her sick. That it was my fault she was in a coma. He didn't do anything to me, not physically, but everything he said to me… It hurt more than physical wounds ever could, Sammy. Damon accused me of not protecting her, hurting her while she trusted me." Dean pushed back the tears that were threatening to overflow. "Dad and I were there to help her, to save her. And all we managed to do was put her in the hospital."

The pieces of the puzzle fell together for Sam. "You started to believe Damon," he whispered just loud enough for Dean to hear. "You believed he was right, that you had hurt Jaenelle." He let out a soft disbelieving sound. "He accused you of hurting the girl you'd been trying to protect so hard for two months."

Dean nodded, his eyes cast down to the ground. He brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. "Damon chased me from the room with his words. He didn't move an inch, Sammy. Not a muscle, but he managed to get me out of that room. Dad was just coming back from the car and heard Damon yelling after me to stay away from his daughter. That's when he told me we were leaving." He closed his eyes and let out a sound that sounded like a sob. "I never got to say goodbye to her."

Sam didn't know what to say to that. He had been one of the best students in his classes, but he was at a loss for words now. His brother, his strong brother who was never afraid of anything, had just told him his worst nightmare. And now Sam knew why sometimes, while Dean was sleeping and he was still awake, Dean would moan in his sleep as if haunted by a nightmare. He'd always figured that it was the job that gave Dean the nightmares, but it hadn't been. It had been Damon who had convinced Dean that he was a bad person, that Dean had almost killed a young woman.

Sam wanted to hurt Damon because of what he had done to his brother. Wanted to give the man the same treatment as he had given Dean. He wanted revenge for his brother's hurt.

"Sammy," Dean said, shaking Sam from his thoughts. "I can't allow this to cloud my mind, not now, not during a case. I need to be clear-headed, but I can't think. All I want to do is hide."

Sam understood. Dean wanted to hide from the pain, from the memories, but at the same time he wanted to fix the situation in this town, get rid of the demon that was causing the destruction. He couldn't do that unless he blocked himself off from his memories, made them go away. And that's when Sam fully understood. Dean's attitude; it was all a front, a disguise to hide the true emotions buried deep within.

Sam glanced at his older brother, whom he had always regarded as the stronger one of the two. The truth was that they were both only human and had feelings and secrets. Sam had never told Dean about the dreams; the dreams that had shown him that Jess would die but he had just shrugged them off as nightmares. He had sort of faced his fear. When Bloody Mary had made him face his guilty feelings, he had known what would happen; had embraced the fact that he would be punished for it.

He glanced at Dean who seemed to be drawn inward, a very strange picture. Sam still had his own issues to deal with and he finally decided that he would talk to his brother about them, but not at that moment. Dean was the one who needed the help the most right now. He needed to face his fear, however twisted it may be.

Sam wanted to laugh. Of all the things Dean could fear, he wasn't afraid of anything they had faced. No, his brother was afraid of a man who had accused him of doing something he hadn't done.

"Why didn't you tell Damon that you were protecting her, helping her?" Sam asked.

Dean stretched his legs out in front of him, placing his hands on the ground next to him to keep himself upright. "I couldn't. I froze up. The fact that he would think I'd do anything to hurt her stunned me. I had talked to him on the phone several times and he seemed to really like me. Then when Jaenelle ended up in the hospital, he turned against me."

"He was afraid he was going to lose his daughter. It can drive anyone crazy," Sam said softly.

"I know, Sammy. I knew it then, too, but I," Dean paused, seeming to try to find the words. He sighed. "I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that I had done that to her. Because I couldn't stand it that she was hurt. I needed to blame someone and since we had already vanquished the demon, I couldn't blame anyone else but myself."

Sam glared at his brother. "What?"

"I'm to blame, Sammy. She got hurt because of me."

Sam's eyes grew big as he stared at Dean. "No! She didn't get hurt because of you! She got hurt because a demon possessed her!"

"But if she hadn't known me, she wouldn't have ended up in a coma."

Sam raised an eyebrow. This went deeper than he thought. "Where's my brother and what did you do to him? My brother would never say such a thing. Come on, Dean. It's not your fault that a demon decided to use her for its own evil purpose. You did your best to stop it. You gave her a protective necklace. And it worked, didn't it?"

Dean shook his head. "Yeah, but."

"No buts," Sam interrupted. "You did everything you could do to protect her and then when the demon possessed her, you and dad made sure that you got it out of her." Changing his tone of voice, he said gently, "She didn't die, Dean. She's alive."

Dean looked at Sam and wondered when the roles had reversed. He was usually the one trying to make Sam feel better about himself. Telling his little brother that they would find their dad, find the thing that killed Jess. Now Sam was doing his best to make him see that everything was going to be alright, was already alright. But he couldn't push away the fact that he felt that Damon had been right. He had put Jaenelle in danger, just by being her friend. He hunted the things that went bump in the night and he couldn't afford the luxury to have friends.

"Dean," Sam pushed gently, "It wasn't your fault."

"No, son," a voice spoke from behind them, startling them. When Dean jumped up and turned around, Damon Hamilton stood facing him.

"Damon," Dean gasped, his heart in his throat. He waited for the moment when Damon would start on him again. Waited for the hurtful words to leave the older man's mouth. He braced himself for them, but they never came.

"Dean," Damon said softly as he stepped toward him. "I'm sorry."

Dean blinked, not fully comprehending what was being said. It wasn't what he had expected. "What?"

Damon smiled bitterly. "I'm sorry for pushing you away from my daughter. I didn't want to believe something that only exists in horror stories hurt my daughter. I needed to blame someone who was real." He looked Dean straight in the eyes. "I am sorry, Dean. So very sorry. When Jaenelle woke up out of her coma, she told me everything. She told me how you had protected her, how you'd tried not to hurt her too much during the exorcism. She remembers everything, Dean."

Of anything that Damon could've said, that shocked Dean the most. "She remembers?" he asked, his face scrunched up in emotional pain. He could feel Sam moving closer to him, but not too close. A gentle hand landed on his shoulder, giving him strength.

"Everything," Damon nodded. "I'm not the person to tell you what she remembers, Dean. She is."

Dean's eyes shot up to his. "You don't want me to be near her," he said, strength returning to his voice. "You chased me away from her while I would've done anything to protect her." Anger seeped into him. Anger that he'd kept buried for two years because he couldn't do anything with it. He stepped away from Sam, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "For two years I didn't know what had happened to her, if she ever woke up out of the coma or that she died. Because of you, I lost the best friend I've ever had."

Damon looked down at his feet. "I truly am sorry, Dean. I'd already lost my wife and I didn't want to lose my daughter. She means the world to me."

"Yeah?" Dean snarled. "Well, guess what? She means a lot to me, too."

Sam tried to hide the incredulous look on his face, but failed. If it weren't for the fact that Dean was standing a few steps in front of him, his brother would've seen. Sam had never heard his brother say anything like that about anyone other than Sam or their father. He'd had a sinking suspicion that Jaenelle meant more to Dean than he'd let on, but that Dean admitted it was something else entirely. It was like seeing a different version of his brother after all these years.

Damon looked up again. "Don't you mean, 'meant a lot to you'?"

Dean clenched and unclenched his fists. "No. Because you might've sent me away, but I never stopped caring about her."

A look of acceptance came over Damon's face. "I believe you, Dean." The older man took a step closer to him and Dean had to resist the urge to take a step back. It was hard, but he managed. "I hope you can believe me when I say I'm sorry."

The look of pure honesty on Damon's face made Dean close his eyes. "You were just trying to protect your daughter," he said, shaking his head. "I didn't like that you sent me away, but I understand."

Damon raised a tentative hand and rested it on Dean's shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked into the blue eyes that reminded him so much of Jaenelle's. "If Jaenelle had been strong enough when she woke up, she would've ripped me a new one," Damon grinned. "She was so angry that I'd sent you away. Malachi and a nurse had to hold her down so that she wouldn't get out of bed and go after you."

Dean stared blankly at Damon, not believing him. The older man saw it and squeezed his shoulder. "Like I said Dean; you should hear from her what she felt, not from me. I can only imagine what you went through because of me. I accused you of some awful things because I was scared I was going to lose my daughter almost the same way I'd lost my wife. If I could take those words back, I would."

Dean took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest. The question he'd wanted the answer to for two years slipped from his lips. "She doesn't blame me?"

Damon's sympathetic eyes seared him. "No, Dean, she doesn't blame you."

A small part of the burden Dean had carried around with him for two years disappeared. His shoulders felt a hell of a lot lighter now. He scrunched up his eyebrows and asked the second question he wanted answered, "Where is she?"

Damon smiled. "She's helping out around town."

Dean managed a smile back even though his insides were still doing a weird dance. Now that he was almost convinced that Jaenelle didn't blame him, he couldn't wait to see her again.

"Euh, Dean?" Sam spoke up. He waved a hand when Dean's attention turned to him. "Still here."

Dean flashed a grin at his brother. "Sorry, man." He turned to Damon. "Damon, this is Sam. Sam, meet Damon."

Damon reached out and shook Sam's hand. "Nice to meet you, son." The older man looked Sam up and down. "I don't know, for some reason I had always imagined you shorter and with a bit more fat on you."

Sam glared at Dean who was grinning again. "Dean," he said in a threatening voice.

Dean held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, dude, that was two years ago. Ancient history." He shrugged in his usual cocky way. "Though I might've embellished a bit on your baby fat."

Sam's eyes threatened to bulge out of his head. "Baby fat? I lost the baby fat when I was twelve."

Damon sniggered. "Yes, you two are definitely brothers." He looked at them both. "Come on, let me take you to my home."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Home?" He glanced at Sam who was still glaring at him. "I thought your house was caught between two burning ones?"

Damon nodded. "It was." Upon seeing Dean's confused expression, he added, "I have a cabin near the woods. We're staying there until we can get back into the house. That is, if it doesn't burn down to the ground first."

"You're sounding very casual about it," Sam stated as they started walking.

The older man shrugged. "I don't much care for that house anymore. Haven't done in a lot of years. I know the kids don't want anything to happen to it, but it reminds me too much of my wife." Sharing a knowing look, Dean and Sam stayed silent. "I've mostly been in my cabin since the kids were old enough to take care of themselves."

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but Dean shook his head, almost unnoticable. "Do you still hunt?" Dean asked, switching the subject. Behind Damon's back Sam motioned as if to ask what he was doing. Dean shook his head again.

"Naw, no more hunting for me. Not now I know what you hunt," Damon looked from Sam to Dean. "Where's your dad, anyway?"

"He's, euh," Dean started.

"On a hunt," Sam finished when it appeared his usually quick thinking brother wasn't going to.

"Still going after the nasty critters, eh?" Damon chuckled. "You'd think the man had a deathwish or something, going after those things."

Dean made a face like only he could. "Yeah." After a short pause, he asked, "So, is this cabin of yours accessible by foot?"

Damon chuckled again. "My truck's parked right there," he said and pointed towards an old, rusted looking green truck. "You boys can follow me. Just wait for me by the intersection." He waved at them over his shoulder as he continued his way to his truck and the brothers stopped walking.

"Euh, Dean?" Sam said.

"Yeah, he's always been this crazy," Dean answered his brother's unasked question.

They started towards the car. Before they reached it, a hand clasped onto Dean's shoulder from behind him. Placing his own hand on the strange one, he braced himself to flip whoever it was over his shoulder. Before he could do so, a chuckle came from behind him.

"Easy, tiger."

Dean let go of the hand and turned around. The second familiar face of the day stood in front of him. "Mal," he grinned.

"Dean," the young man grinned back. "I almost didn't recognize you without my dad yelling at you."

Dean snorted. "Thanks for that memory, man." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I never did thank you for the back-up that day. You really gave it to your dad, telling him I hadn't done anything."

Mal looked sheepish for a second, then switched to a mischievous grin. "Ah, come on Dean. I was having fun seeing you shrink away from a powerless recluse."

Dean shook his head and looked up at Sam. "Mal, this is Sam, my brother. Sam, Mal. Damon's son."

"Hi," Sam smiled as he extended his hand and grabbed Malachi's.

"Nice to meet you," Malachi smiled. "I thought you were at college or something?"

"I was," he answered. "I decided to take a little time off."

Malachi's eyebrows rose up on his forehead. "Freaky stuff happened that made you quit school, huh?" he asked.

Sam visibly blanched. "What? How?" He looked questioningly at Dean who shrugged at him.

"Having been treated as if I was a leper at school all my life, you tend to be more of an observer than a participator. I see things." His eyes strayed over to his dad's truck that was idling at the end of the street. "Can I ride with you guys?"

Exchanging glances, Dean and Sam shrugged. "Euh, sure," Dean said.

"Why don't you want to ride with your dad?" Sam asked.

Malachi looked up at him and shrugged. "Family issue. Don't want to get into it." They walked over to the car, which was as shiny and black as ever. Malachi whistled. "Damn, Dean. I wish I could get me a car like this."

Dean grinned and caressed the hood of the car. "Yeah, you wish."

Sam rolled his eyes and slid into the passenger seat while Malachi climbed into the backseat. Dean settled himself behind the wheel. He watched as Damon drove away without waiting for them. "Oh, that's nice."

Malachi bent forward so he was in between the two front seats. "You don't need him. I'm here, aren't I?"

Dean made a noise that sounded like some sort of a chuckle-snort. "Oh, that's comforting."

"I could always get out and have you find the cabin on your own, you know," Malachi said and lifted his hand to the doorknob.

"Don't you dare," Dean threatened as he looked over his shoulder at Malachi.

Malachi grinned and folded his hands beneath his head. "So, meet any cute girls lately?"


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

As they drove toward the cabin following Malachi's instructions, Sam quizzed Malachi. "So," he said, turning his body to look back at him, "Your sister. How was she after she woke up from the coma?"

Malachi looked out of the window and shrugged. "Same old Jaenie. She was a bit shaken that some demon had actually taken up residence inside of her, but other than that she was fine. After she got released from the hospital she took up self-defense classes and dropped her drama class and started with some weird history course." He shot a mock accusatory glare at Dean. "You couldn't have stayed and taught her what you knew, huh?"

Dean let out a harsh laugh. "Shut up, Mal."

Sam glanced between his brother and the new guy. "So how is it that you two are acting as if you know each other that well? I thought you hadn't met each other two years ago."

"Oh, we met," Dean grumbled. "He came over for a week while we were there. Bugged the hell out of me. Always wanting to drive in my car. He even stole my car keys once and was almost behind the wheel when I caught him."

Malachi laughed. "Can you blame me?" He ran a hand over the interior of the car. "She's a beauty."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Guys? Focus." He looked at Malachi. "Tell me what happened after she woke up. Was she different than before?" Malachi looked uncomfortable and squirmed in his seat. "What?" Sam asked.

"Well," Malachi hesitated. "Jaenie told me once that if Dean were ever to show up again, I wasn't to say anything about that time." Dean stiffened up behind the wheel, his knuckles turning white from his firm grip. "It isn't what you think, Dean," Malachi continued, having seen Dean's change of posture. "She doesn't want me to tell you anything because she wants to tell you herself. She was always saying that when you returned, you were to hear it all from her, not from me or my dad." He sat up and leaned forward. "She threatened to kick my ass if I said anything."

Dean laughed. "And you fell for it?" He shook his head. "God, you're so gullible."

Malachi looked hurt. "Hey, she might be my sister, but when she threatens someone, she means business. That's one thing that changed about her since then. She's grown her own set of balls, I swear." He cleared his throat as Dean and Sam laughed. "For example. A few weeks ago we were on campus and this idiot frat boy came on to her. His hands were all over her." A sly grin formed on Malachi's face. "She knocked him out cold. One hit and he was down."

Dean raised his eyebrows, disbelieving. "You're kidding me."

Malachi shook his head. "No way. I wouldn't kid about this." He looked over the dashboard and out the window, eyes focusing on their surroundings. Trees lined the road and up ahead there was a patch of trees that made had made a natural T-section. "You want to make a left here. Anyway, she's been known to stand up for girls who are being harassed. The guys in town are scared of her. They won't come near her." Eyes shining with a mischievous glint, Malachi looked at Dean. "Maybe she oughta hook up with someone from out of town. Who already knows her."

Dean sighed loudly and made a left turn. "Mal, I told you two years ago that Jaenelle is just a friend. Would you stop trying to get us together already?"

Malachi held up his hands in mock surrender. "Sorry. But seriously? Dear old sis needs to get laid sometime soon or I'm going to kill her. She's a pain in the ass."

Sam laughed and Dean grimaced. "Shut up, Mal," he said through gritted teeth.

Sam watched on in amusement as his brother was being tormented by some stranger. Malachi might not be a stranger to Dean, but he was to Sam. He liked the guy already if he could make his brother squirm.

"I bet this is new for you, huh Sam?" Malachi asked.

"What is?"

"Seeing your brother with all his barriers down. Jaenelle has that effect on him. The way she tells it, he came into town all bad ass like, using all his charm to woo her. Then as they spent more time together, he softened up until there was nothing left but a cute, little puppy."

Sam laughed so hard he fell back against the window, leaning his head against the cool glass. "Cute little puppy!" he giggle-snorted.

Dean growled low in his throat, sounding more like a lion than a cute, little puppy. "Didn't I tell you to shut up, Mal?"

Malachi gleefully clapped his hands together. "You shut up, Dean. You know it's true. You go all goo-ey when Jaenie's around. Make a right here."

Dean turned the wheel and went around the bend. He kept quiet because for once he didn't know what to say. It had always been a test of wills between him and Malachi. The younger guy was the same as him, if not worse. Mal always had a come-back for everything and Dean hated it. And besides, it really was true. Jaenelle was the only woman who could pull down his barriers and show the real him that he kept buried. She had been the only one to see the real Dean, the Dean that wanted a normal life.

"You actually managed to shut up him," Sam said to Malachi. "You're my new hero."

Malachi laughed. "I am no match for your brother. I out-rank him with my wit."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm going to knock you out cold if you don't shut up."

"And here is where the threatening begins. See, Sam, something you need to know about your brother: when he's at a loss for words and you've out-witted him, he starts with the idle threatening, but you know he's never going to act on it. It's good to know for future reference."

Sam grinned. "Thanks, man. I'll keep that in mind."

Dean growled again. There was a wooden cabin ahead of him and he kept his gaze trained on it, trying to drown out Sam and Mal laughing at his expense. It was good to hear his brother laughing again, but did it really have to be over him? Why couldn't he come up with something embarrassing about Mal to say?

Damon stood on the porch of the cabin, looking in their direction as they drove towards him. He stepped off the porch as Dean stopped the car and turned off the engine.

"I saw you caught up with Malachi," Damon said when Dean opened his door and got out. "Figured I didn't have to wait for you anymore because you had him to show you where to go."

"Yeah," Dean said, toning down the sarcasm. "Good thinking."

"Jaenie back yet, dad?" Malachi asked as he walked past Dean and up the porch.

"No," Damon answered. "She must still be in town."

"What's she doing, anyway?" Sam asked as they followed Malachi inside.

"Trying to help out extinguishing the fires." Malachi shook his head. "I hate to say it, but it's no use. Whatever this demon wants, it's not killing anyone. It's trying to lure someone out."

"How can you be so sure?" Dean said as he sank down onto the couch, looking as if he belonged there. Sam raised an amused eyebrow at the sight.

Malachi shrugged. "Just a feeling I have. You guys want a beer?" Dean's old grin returned, which was all the answer Malachi needed. Sam just nodded his head once. "Back in a sec, then."

As Malachi stepped through a doorway that had to lead to the kitchen, Sam and Dean looked around. "It's not much, but I call it home," Damon said as he entered the room.

"It's nice," Sam smiled, still standing.

"Go on, make yourself at home," the older man continued. "Your brother already has."

Dean grinned mischievously as Sam sank down onto the other end of the couch. "He tends to overlook the niceties." Sam smirked and immediately grimaced. Dean had hit him upside the head. "What did you do that for?"

His older brother shrugged. "Felt like it was appropriate." The same cocky grin Sam knew so well formed on his brother's face.

"Jerk," Sam grumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

Across from them, Damon chuckled. Malachi came back in, holding three beers. "Drink up, mateys," he said with a pirate accent and grinned as he handed them to Dean and Sam.

Malachi settled himself on a chair positioned behind a laptop. He tapped a few keys and the screen sprang to life. "So what kind of creatures of the darkness have you gone up against lately?" he asked before taking a swig of his beer.

"A Woman in White, Wendigo, a kid's spirit drowning people in a lake, a phantom traveller, Bloody Mary, a shapeshifter and the Hookman," Dean answered, counting them off with his fingers.

Malachi looked back at him. "Bloody Mary?" he said incredulously. "She's real?"

"We don't think she was the original Bloody Mary," Sam explained, "but yeah. She was real."

"Was as in, you managed to send her into the light?" Damon asked.

Dean made a thoughtful face. "I don't think those kinds of ghosts go towards the light. I actually have no idea what happens to them afterwards and I don't really want to know."

Damon nodded. "Understandable, but you have to wonder sometimes what happens to them."

Sam and Dean shared a look. When Dean glanced at Malachi, he saw Mal roll his eyes and return his attention to the laptop. "What are you working on, Mal?" he asked.

Malachi shrugged. "Trying to research this demon. So far, I haven't found any reference to any demon that uses such a method as this one is using. From what I can tell," he paused and took another swig of beer, "demons just hop from body to body, causing chaos. They don't tend to want just one victim, but this one does. It's trying to lure someone out of hiding."

"Yeah, about that," Sam started but stopped when he heard a car door slam outside. He looked over at Dean whose cocky grin instantly vanished, replaced by a nervous expression. Sam was amused and intrigued at the same time. This Jaenelle seriously had some hold over his brother and caused Dean to show feelings he had never shown before.

Footsteps could be heard outside. First there was the distinct sound of Jaenelle walking on gravel and then a thump that told them she had reached the porch. The front door opened. Sam was torn between watching his brother's reaction and finally seeing who Jaenelle was. He opted for shifting his body so that he could look at both. As he moved, he found both Damon and Malachi watching Dean with interest.

Covered in soot and grime, Jaenelle Hamilton stepped into the cabin. Her dark brown hair was tied up high on top of her head, leaving her face free. "Hey," she said by way of greeting. "Dad, is there any hot water left?" she asked, looking down at the floor as she kicked off her shoes.

Damon coughed behind his hand which brought Jaenelle's head up. Sam saw surprise in her big blue eyes when she looked at him and Dean sitting on the couch. From the corner of his eye, Sam saw that Dean was sitting ramrod straight, his hands clasped tightly around the neck of the bottle. Her full lips parted to form a shocked 'O'.

Dean swallowed hard. His hands were squeezing the bottle so tight, his knuckles were turning white. His heart was pounding, making the inside of his chest seem like a drum set. His stomach had turned into a ball of nerves. And even though his body was doing all that, his brain only registered one thing: she hadn't changed a bit.

Her eyes stared back at him, surprise clearly written in those blue orbs of hers. With other women, he knew exactly what to say and how to act. With Jaenelle, he lost all sense of self. Hell, she made him nervous. In truth, he was nervous because he was afraid of her reaction to seeing him again. Damon might've said that she didn't blame Dean for what had happened, but he wouldn't believe it until he heard it from her. She had a way of saying things with such sincerity that it was hard not to believe her when she was being honest.

She blinked and the contact was gone. Her gaze slid from him to Sam. He saw the calculating look in her eyes and when she nodded he knew she'd figured out who the stranger was. Looking down on herself, she grimaced.

"There's still hot water, sweetheart," Damon said gently. "You go wash up."

Jaenelle frowned. "No," she said. "It can wait."

"Sis, seriously. You look like shit and you smell even worse," Malachi teased her, scrunching up his face in disgust.

She gave him a bored look. "Mal, shut up."

Dean couldn't resist the opportunity. "I knew I wasn't the only one who finds you annoying." He grinned.

Jaenelle glanced at him and he saw a corner of her mouth twitch as if holding back a smile. Malachi shot him a death-look. "Shut up, pretty boy."

Dean's grin widened. "Thanks for the compliment, dude."

Malachi glared at Dean and picked up his beer. "What are you doing drinking beer at this hour?" Jaenele scolded him. She yanked the bottle from his hand and held up her free hand when he opened his mouth to say something. "Don't. We need to be clearheaded right now, Mal, and you know it. This demon? It's destroying our town. Don't make me knock some sense into that head of yours."

"Oh, and you think you can best me?" Malachi took on a fighting stance. "Let's go, sis. Let's wrastle."

Jaenelle raised an eyebrow at him and flicked her index finger against his forehead. Malachi yelped and jumped back. He frowned at his sister as he rubbed the spot she had just hit. "Cheater," he mumbled.

Sam watched the exchange in amazement. Jaenelle switched from a mother-figure to a sister in less than a second. It was amusing to watch and he had to admit that he'd pay money to see those two wrestle, just to find out who would win.

"It's your turn to make dinner," Jaenelle stated as she rolled her shoulders.

Malachi heaved an exaggerated sigh and stood up. "Alright mom, but do I really have to clean my room, too?"

Jaenelle chuckled and gave him the bottle back. "Smart ass," she mumbled.

Malachi grinned at her devilishly. "As always, sis."

Jaenelle seemed to hesitate, then looked at Dean. "Can we talk outside for a minute?" she asked.

Dean's nerves got worse. His palms were sweating around the beer bottle. "Sure," he said, and he took pride in the fact that his voice sounded so casual without any sign of nervousness. He stood up and gave his bottle to his brother who sat looking up at him with a worried expression.

It was nice of Sam to worry, but what was he thinking? That Jaenelle was going to eat him?

Jaenelle walked to the door and opened it. She stepped through without waiting for Dean. He followed her out and when he shut the door, he saw all three men who were still inside looking at him through the glass. He smirked then turned his back on them.

Turning around to look at Jaenelle, he found her leaning against the porch's railing with her back to the cars. Her hands were resting on the railing on either side of her and she had her head cocked to the side. "You look good," she said.

He smiled. "So do you."

She looked down at herself and her soot-covered clothes. When she looked up at him again she had an amused look on her face. "No, I don't. Mal was right when he said that I look like shit," she chuckled. "I just don't admit it to him."

He chuckled, too, and moved over to a chair, his hands in his pockets. He didn't know how to start, what to say. There was so much he wanted to ask her, so much he needed to know. Thoughts tumbled through his mind, questions looped around until they drove him crazy.

"So how have you been?" she asked.

He made a face and shrugged. "Same old, you know? Still hunting the things that go bump in the night." He paused and looked her over. "How are you?"

She smiled at him. "I'm alright." She moved from the railing to the bench that stood there and sat down. "I got a transfer out of Berkeley so I'm now a student here. Mal and I both moved back to take care of dad, Mal a little more reluctant than me, but it was necessary."

Dean sat down next to her, bending forward so his elbows rested on his knees. "What's wrong with him?"

She shook her head. "Can we talk about that later?" she asked and turned, folding one leg onto the bench. "You and I have personal issues to resolve first."

He'd almost forgotten. Now that he was with her again, he felt as if he had never left her. It had almost been like two years ago. But it wasn't, and she was right that they needed to talk. He just wished he could postpone it. He really wished he could just sit with her like this, like old times, before the shit had hit the fan and he'd been driven out of her life.

She took a deep breath. "I'm just gonna come out and say this, Dean. There's no need to skirt around the truth."

He knew it. Damon had lied to him. Jaenelle was going to tell him now that she blamed him for everything, didn't want to see him anymore. His heart convulsed in pain already, but he asked anyway, "What?"

Her big blue eyes pinned his with their stare. "I know you blame yourself for what happened, Dean, I can see it in the way you carry yourself around me. But it's not your fault. You couldn't know that the demon was in that bar, ready to seize the opportunity to possess me." She laid a hand on one of his. "It wasn't your fault and I never blamed you for anything."

"Of course it's my fault," he snarled, getting up. "If it hadn't been for me and my wild idea to go out and have a few drinks, that stupid kid wouldn't have ripped the necklace off of you, making you vulnerable. It's my fault, Jaenelle."

Her eyes softened as she stood up so they were almost eye to eye. "No, Dean. I don't want to hear any of that. How the hell could you or I have known that some stupid drunk would rip it off?" She laughed a short, harsh laugh. "If there's anything you can't count on, it's the unpredictability of human nature." She gripped his biceps hard. "It's not your fault. It's no one's fault. Not yours, not your dad's, not mine. If anything, it's the Powers That Be's fault. They should've looked out for me. It's not your task to protect me."

Dean once again stepped out of her reach, growling. "That's what I was trying to do, Jaenelle. I was trying to protect you and that little shit got to you anyway. I failed to protect you."

"Is that what this is about?" she asked, her voice rising in volume. "You're eating yourself up over not being able to protect me?" She snorted. "I know you well enough to know that you don't have a super-hero complex. So what the hell is this all about?"

Dean's face hardened. "Do you really have to ask? Are you really that blind?" He took the two steps back to her and gripped her upper arms. "I care about you, more than I'm supposed to. I can't care for someone as much as I do for you with what I do. I hunt demons, Jaenelle. Everyone that comes into contact with me either dies or gets hurt. I don't want that to happen to you."

"It's too late for that, Dean. A demon got to me." She paused, moving her arms so he had to let her go. She raised her hands to cup his face. "But I didn't die. You saved me, remember?" Her eyes glazed over as if she could see something he couldn't. "I remember everything after the demon possessed me. I wasn't in control of my body, but I was still there. I could see and hear everything." Her eyes focused back on him. "You didn't want to hurt me in order to get the demon. When your dad performed the exorcism on me, you moved out of the room, not being able to watch." She chuckled but it had a bitter undertone. "How can I blame you when you obviously didn't want to do anything to hurt me?"

"How could you not blame me?" Dean asked. "Because I was," he started but stopped.

She had interrupted him by giving him a light tap on the cheek. She let her hands fall down to her sides and placed them on her hips. "And if you hadn't been, I would've been dead right now."

"Because I failed to protect you from the demon!" Dean shouted, throwing his hands into the air.

"No, Dean!" Jaenelle shouted back. "You protected me from the demon. Or don't you remember the night we met? The main reason you were at Berkeley was because you'd heard of the killings. I would've been just another one of those victims if it hadn't been for you. I owe you my life." Her eyes turned water-y, holding back tears. "If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't be here right now. You saved me, Dean. When the demon was just after me to kill me and then when it had possessed me. I remember it taking over my body and all I could think was, 'Dean will save me'." Her eyes pleaded with him to believe her. "You never meant for me to get hurt, I know that Dean. And you did all you could to ensure that I was safe. I know you would've done more had my dad not sent you away." She took hold of his hands. "I have never blamed you or thought it was your fault. You have to get over it, Dean, because I am too."

He shook his head. "How can you forgive me that easily?"

Jaenelle released his hands and frowned at him. "Haven't I already explained to you that it's not your fault? That there's nothing to forgive?" When he started to protest, she raised her hand, silencing him. "Stop being so damn stubborn, Dean. I know it's one of your traits along with the cockiness, but really. This is getting ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? You call me wanting to protect you ridiculous? I'm sorry for wanting to ensure your safety. I failed to keep you safe. You might have your own version of it, but I know what happened."

Jaenelle raised an eyebrow at him and cocked her hip. She regarded him for a few seconds then brought up her hand. She scratched her head as she continued to look at him. Slowly, she said, "Right," then extended her hand and whacked him upside the head.

"Hey!" he yelled, rubbing the spot where she'd hit him. "What did you do that for?"

She shrugged. "I was hoping I could knock some sense into you." She paused and placed her hands on her hips. "So tell me, Dean. Do I need to knock some sense into you? Because I can do that. In fact, I'd love to. I've had a lot of practice the past two years in kicking ass."

Dean stared at her. It was obvious to him now that she really didn't blame him at all for what happened two years ago. She was the same old Jaenelle but with a little more spunk. Two years ago she'd just been sarcastic. Now she was so much more than that. As Malachi had said; she'd grown her own set of balls. He could see the strength in her, the walls she'd put up to protect herself. But still she remained the same. She'd been through hell, almost literally, and had stayed the same old Jaenie.

The weight that had remained on his shoulders after his initial conversation with Damon lifted. He felt liberated. Free of all the turmoil that had plagued him for the past two years when he had blamed himself for Jaenelle's pain. He would never forgive himself for even letting her be vulnerable to the demon, but at the moment he was just happy to know that she didn't blame him.

Jaenelle eyed him skeptically. Her shoulders sagged as she let out a heavy sigh. "This is really going to take some ass-kicking, huh?" she asked before her foot shot out and hit his hip.

Dean glared at her. "Don't, Jaenelle."

She grinned mischievously at him and took on a fighting stance. "Why not? Afraid you'll hurt me?"

He snorted. "Hell, yeah. You're no match for me, little girl."

She raised an eyebrow at him. Her foot shot out again, but he was quick to grab it this time. "Uh uh," he said with a shake of his head. "You're going up against the champ, sweetie."

"Oh, really?" she smiled and twisted and turned her body so that she was standing on her hands, her right leg caught between Dean's hands. She pulled on her leg causing Dean to release her, then kicked back into his chest.

Dean staggered backward, holding a hand to the sore spot. "Oh, it's on now," he growled and charged just as Jaenelle righted herself.

She quickly blocked his blows. "Seriously, Dean," she said as she ducked to avoid a hit. She straightened and threw a punch at him. "You're not as cracked up as you think you are." She blocked a kick to her hip with her arm. "I mean, you fight like a girl. And I'm a girl so I know these things." Grinning, she side-stepped his next kick and bumped into the bench.

"Seems like you're stuck now," Dean mumbled as he swung his fist to her arm. He wasn't really aiming for anything vital or something that could hurt. He just wanted to keep his pride intact and show her what he could do. To think that a girl could kick his ass was unacceptable.

She raised her eyebrows at him as she blocked his fist. Jumping up on the bench, she retorted, "Stuck? No way. It's just a matter of using the objects in your path." She jumped up and to the left as he tried to close his arms around her legs. She landed with a thump, crouched low, her left hand on the floor.

Dean froze. She looked like a predator ready to attack as she eyed him from her position on the ground. She smiled at him and he knew that he was screwed. As she stood up, he took a step toward her, ready to bring her down. She was faster and while she was still halfway through her rise to her full height, she kicked out and swept his legs out from under him. The next thing he knew was that his back hit the floorboards and as his breath was knocked out of him, Jaenelle straddled his hips.

She gave him the cockiest expression he had ever seen on her. One eyebrow slightly raised and a smug smile on her face, he knew she'd won, but he wouldn't give in so easily. He tried to get his legs to wrap around her, but found that the way she was sitting prevented him from doing so. Her hands were holding down his arms with a strength he hadn't expected from her.

"Gotta think of everything, Dean," she smirked at him, still with that smug smile in place. "You have to expect that the one below you will want to throw you off somehow. If I had sat up any higher, you would've been able to move your legs enough to bring me down. Had I not thought of holding down your arms, you would've hit me or pushed me off." She released his arms and folded her own across her chest. "Still think I can't kick your ass?"

Dean grinned at her. He'd liked the young woman she'd been two years ago. He liked this partially new Jaenelle even better. "Let me up," he chuckled.

"Not until you tell me how good I am." She winked at him.

A full throated laugh escaped him. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her. "It's so good to see you again," he laughed as he held her.

What he couldn't see as he hugged her was Jaenelle's expression. Had she been smiling a second before, that smile had now vanished and worry creased her brow. Her eyes had a haunted look. When she spoke, however, there was no trace of any of the emotions on her face. "It's good to see you again, too."


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five 

When they got out of the hug and Jaenelle got to her feet, Dean let himself be pulled up. "How the hell did you get so good?" he asked, still a bit shocked at the moves she'd performed.

Jaenelle smirked. "Lots and lots of hours practicing and working out at the gym. I'm not as buff as some people think I should be, but that's because there's more than just weight lifting." She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Pilates, anyone?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "Pilates? That sissy exercising program?" He laughed when she hit him on the arm.

"It strengthens and lengthens your muscles instead of bunching them up," she stated as she moved over to the door. "I prefer a lean figure instead of being all muscle, thank you." She opened the door and looked back at him. "On you, the extra muscles look good, though."

Dean's eyes sparkled with mischief as she entered the cabin. He stood on the threshold for a second, grinning widely. Oh, she wanted to flirt? He could do that, too. And this time, she was going to succumb to his will.

Jaenelle walked over to Sam as Dean stepped over the threshold and closed the door. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier," she said and extended her hand. "I'm Jaenelle."

Sam smiled up at her and took her hand. "Sam. It's nice to finally meet you."

She grinned at him. "You, too. I've heard a lot about you." She glanced over her shoulder at Dean. "A lot of it was probably bull, though, knowing Dean."

Sam smirked. "I kind of got that earlier," he said as he too, looked at Dean.

Dean grinned at them as he sat down on a chair. "So, Mal, got another beer?"

Jaenelle glared at him. "Don't you dare. Did you forget while I was kicking your ass that there's a demon on the loose?"

Dean's grin faded a bit. "I didn't forget, but there's not much we can do right now." Jaenelle opened her mouth to protest, but Dean continued, "If we go into town now, what will we do? We need to know a bit more about this demon. We know it's setting houses on fire. Why? How?" He looked at everyone in the room. "We get the answers to that, we'll go in with our guns blazing."

"Okay, let's try to answer the how part," said Jaenelle. "How is it setting houses on fire?"

"Probably possessing someone in the house every time," Sam joined in the conversation. "Demons can't set things on fire without help."

"The demons you've come across so far," Jaenelle said. "This one's different."

Dean and Sam looked at her quizzically then each other. "How do you know?" Dean asked.

Jaenelle stared him in the eye. "I just do."

Dean caught the way she fiddled with the sweatband around her wrist and frowned. He could tell there was something she wasn't telling them.

"Let's do this," Mal spoke up. "I get a few beers and we start a research party. You, missy, take a shower, because you reek." He grinned at his sister. "With these guys here, we're bound to find the thing faster than on our own."

Jaenelle frowned at her brother, but nodded. "Shower's good. You guys start researching." She turned her back on them and walked to the small hallway leading to the other part of the cabin.

Sam and Dean shared a worried look. "When did she get all twitchy?" Dean asked as he looked at Mal.

Malachi shrugged. "She's been like this for a few days now. She just switches from happy to worried in seconds flat. I've tried to talk to her about it, but she won't tell me anything."

"Do you think it has to do with the demon?" Sam asked.

Before anyone could reply, Damon got up off his chair. "I'll let you kids do the research. I'm of no help here. If you do need me, I'll be in my room."

"Sure, dad," Mal said. "You rest up. We'll be here."

Damon nodded and followed Jaenelle's earlier footsteps down the hallway.

Mal stared after his father then shook his head and looked at Sam. "I have no answer to your question, unfortunately. Does it have to do with the demon?" He shrugged. "Hell if I know. All I know is that I have a feeling this isn't your ordinary demon."

Sam sighed and sat back. "A demon usually doesn't target one specific person, but it certainly looks like it here. We need to find out who it's targetting and why."

"Without knowing anything, we have no way of finding that out," Dean said.

"I'll go get the beers," Malachi said and made his way to the kitchen.

With Mal out of the room, Sam eyed his brother. "So you're okay now?" he asked.

Dean smirked at him. "When am I not okay?"

Sam tilted his head and sighed. "Dean."

Rolling his eyes, Dean said, "We talked, okay? It's all peachy."

"Are you sure? You have to clear the air around you two before we can do anything about this. You need your head on straight."

Dean snorted. "When have I ever lost my head over a girl?"

"From what I hear, two years ago," Sam stated.

Dean squirmed in his seat. "I'm fine, Sammy. Jaenelle is the most honest girl I've ever met. When she tells you something, you have to believe her."

From the doorway, Malachi spoke up. "That used to be the case," he said as he walked in the room with three beers in his hands. "Lately she's been hiding a lot." He gave the beers to Dean and Sam and then sat down on the couch next to Sam. "I'm not saying she lied to you just now, but she's holding things back about this demon."

Dean frowned. "Are you sure?"

Malachi nodded. "I know my sister, Dean. She's the one who raised me. I know all her telltale signs that say she's lying." He looked down on the beer in his hands. "She's been lying a lot the past few days."

"Fidgeting with her wristband?" Dean asked, remembering how she had done that just a few minutes before.

"Among other things although that's a new one." Malachi took a deep breath. "She started wearing that thing three days ago and she hasn't taken it off. She's a bracelet kind of girl, not wristband. I've been trying to figure out why she's wearing it, but she won't tell me a thing."

"Maybe she's hiding something," Sam offered.

Malachi shot Sam a look. "No, really Sherlock?" he said with sarcasm dripping off every word.

Sam leaned back and held up his hands. "You don't want me to say something about your sister even though it might be the truth?"

Mal snorted. "It is the damn truth and that's exactly what bugs me. She's hiding something big from me and I can't stand the fact that she's not confiding in me."

"Maybe it's because I don't want to get you involved, Mal," Jaenelle spoke up so suddenly that all three of them jumped.

Mal cursed. "Don't do that," he snarled as he glared at his sister. "When did you become so stealthy?"

Dean could only stare as Jaenelle stood framed in the doorway. She had a towel wrapped around her hair and was wearing a bright yellow bathrobe. Her bare legs peeked out from underneath the yellow fabric. He let out a shaky breath as he realized that his feelings for her hadn't changed. He hadn't lied to her when they'd talked outside. He cared too much about her to be safe, but this was different. He could just imagine taking her to her room and slowly sliding the bathrobe down her arms, exposing her body to him.

Shaking his head, he focused on her face instead of the bare skin of her legs. He needed to stay clear-headed and not muddled with images of her beneath him. He shook his head again and almost moaned.

Jaenelle walked over to the chair next to Dean and grabbed his beer bottle from him. As she brought her arm up to bring the bottle to her mouth, the sleeve of her bathrobe rolled up and exposed her right wrist. Dean's attention snapped to that piece of skin, horrified by what he saw.

He jumped up and snatched the bottle from her hands. "Hey!" Jaenelle shouted, surprised. "What the hell, Dean?"

Dean shoved the fabric up to her elbow and examined the burn on her wrist. She yanked her arm back from him and hid the burn from his view. His eyes searched hers. "What happened, Jaenelle? How did you get that burn?"

Jaenelle clasped her left hand around her wrist. "A burning log fell on my wrist," she told him but he didn't believe her.

He frowned at her. "You're not telling me the truth." He tried to grab her again but she quickly scooted out of his reach. "Jaenelle," he growled a warning.

"It's nothing, Dean," she stated but he still didn't believe her. She didn't sound the least bit honest.

Before Dean could move again, Malachi jumped up and grabbed his sister by the arm. He, too, shoved the sleeve of her robe up her arm. Jaenelle tried to pull her arm back, but Malachi kept a firm hold on her as he studied the burn. His eyes grew wide. "This isn't your typical burn, Jaenie."

Sam now stood up too and moved over to the two siblings. He looked at the burn over Malachi's shoulder. "It looks like a flame," he murmured.

"Let me go," Jaenelle snarled as she tried with all her might to get loose from Malachi's grip. "Mal, I swear, if you don't let me go…"

Sam looked up at his brother, startled, and moved over to the laptop. Typing in a website address, he said, "That's why you covered it up. You didn't want anyone to know."

Malachi released his sister, frowning. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Dean was at Jaenelle's side, holding her so that she wouldn't run from the room. As his brother searched on the website, Jaenelle's scent fogged up his brain. He couldn't think. All he wanted to do was bury his head in her neck and inhale her sweet, rosy scent. He swallowed hard, burying the feelings that were rising up to the surface.

"It's nothing," Jaenelle snarled, trying to get free of Dean's arms. Her eyes shot to his. "Dean, let me go."

He shook his head. "No, Jaenie. You're gonna tell us about this."

"Oh, man," Sam spoke up from behind the laptop.

"What?" Malachi asked, looking from Sam to Jaenelle and Dean. Fear was written in his eyes.

"I knew I recognized it from somewhere," Sam said as he turned the laptop so that everyone could see. On the screen there was a picture, an exact duplicate of Jaenelle's burn. Sam's eyes travelled up to meet Jaenelle's. "It's a demon-mark."

Dean's breath caught. His hold on Jaenelle loosened from shock and she stepped out of his reach. She frowned as she walked to the other side of the room, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. He could see she was shivering and took a step towards her, wanting to make her stop.

"Jaenelle," Sam said, "want to explain to us why you have the mark of a demon on your wrist?"

The full weight of Sam's question finally clicked in Dean's brain. He stared at Jaenelle wide eyed. "Jaenie?" he asked as he took a cautious step towards her.

She had her back to them, but he could clearly see her shoulders sagging. For a few seconds he could only stare at her until he saw her shoulders moving up and down, as if she were crying. He quickly moved to her side wrapped an arm around her. She turned in his embrace and buried her face in his neck, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Dean's heart was breaking as he listened to her cry. "I can help," he whispered as he caressed her back through the fabric of her robe. "Tell me what happened and I'll help."

Jaenelle hiccuped. "You can't," she said through her tears. "No one can."

"Of course I can, Jaenie. Just tell me."

She continued crying into his shoulder until finally after a few minutes her sobs calmed down. When she raised her head to look at him, he saw her tear stained cheeks and her swollen red eyes. He brought his hands up and gently wiped her cheeks clean with his thumbs.

"Mal," Dean spoke up, "get your sister a glass of whiskey."

"What?" Malachi asked incredulously. "You want to get her drunk?"

Dean shook his head, all the while looking into Jaenelle's eyes. He saw the gratitude in her blue orbs. "No, Mal. Not drunk. Numb. She needs to not feel when she tells us."

From the corner of his eyes, Dean saw Malachi make his way into the kitchen again. He placed a hand on Jaenelle's lower back and guided her to the couch where he sat her down. "You're going to drink that whiskey and then you'll tell me what happened, okay?" he asked.

Jaenelle nodded. Her eyes showed him her emotions. She was grateful he was there but she was also scared. He held her close. "I promise you, everything will be alright."


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six 

After Jaenelle had calmed down enough to drink the whiskey Malachi had brought, Dean brought the glass up to her lips. Her own hands were shaking so badly she couldn't hold the glass steady. He kept his free hand on her back, trying to give comfort by his touch. "Can you talk?" he asked gently after a few minutes.

Jaenelle sniffled once, then took a shaky hold of the glass and gulped down the last of the whiskey. After she had swallowed, she looked up at Malachi. "I need more," she said in a shaky voice.

Malachi nodded and refilled her glass with the bottle that was in his hands. When Mal looked at Dean, Dean could clearly see fear written in the younger man's eyes.

Jaenelle downed her second glass in one go and set it down hard on the coffee table. After she had swallowed, she looked at Sam.

"Did Dean tell you everything about two years ago?" she asked.

Sam nodded. "I should hope so." He paused and glanced at his brother who nodded back at him. Taking this as a 'yes', Sam returned his attention to Jaenelle.

"When the demon possessed me, I was aware of everything it said and did. I can remember the vile things it said to your father as he was performing the exorcism, the hurtful remarks it told Dean." She paused and held her glass out to Malachi who refilled it again. "The day I woke up after being in a coma for a week is basically a blur. All I can remember of that day is that when my dad told me he'd sent John and Dean away, I freaked." She looked at Dean. "I didn't feel safe without you around. I was incredibly weak, but somehow I managed to climb out of bed. Halfway at least until Mal and a nurse held me down. I wanted to go after you, tell you my dad was being an idiot. Instead I had to lay in that hospital bed for another week while you drove further and further away from me."

Dean remembered those weeks when he had wondered how Jaenelle was doing. During those days, his mind hadn't been on the job. He had been worrying about Jaenelle, wondering if she'd come out of the coma, if she'd still been alive. It had eaten him up inside not knowing what had happened to her.

"When I got my strength back and was allowed to leave the hospital, I avoided my dad as best I could. I didn't leave Berkeley as he wanted. I stayed there, dropped drama class and took on a history course. Even though my body was back to its previous strength, I didn't feel strong enough, so I started taking self defense classes and working out at the gym. I researched demons and how to protect myself from them." She paused as she took a small sip of whiskey. "I slept with a circle of salt around my bed. A line of salt on my window sill so that nothing could get in. I did everything you can think of to protect myself." A short pause as she took a breath. "I was scared."

All three men sat quietly as she talked. Sam still sat in front of the laptop, his body turned in her direction. Malachi sat on the arm of the couch, holding the whiskey bottle with a white knuckled grip. Dean kept rubbing her back as she talked, hoping he could give her the courage she needed to tell all of it.

"Then my dad got sick last year," she continued. "The doctor's have this really awesome term for it, but I just say that he's losing his marbles. He never got over mom's death, she was everything to him, ever since then he started closing himself off to the world, bit by tiny bit. He kept up appearances when we were still growing up, but as soon as we were old enough to take care of ourselves, he came here, to this cabin. He became a hermit. The only times we saw him was when he came to drop off groceries. We had to fend for ourselves." She looked at Sam. "I'm basically telling this for your sake, because Dean already knows."

Sam nodded. "I understood that he was a recluse, but I didn't get why."

Jaenelle shrugged. "So now you know. He never got over my mom's death. And now it's so bad that the doctor's told Mal and I to take care of him because he doesn't take care of himself." She glanced at Malachi. "I came willingly."

"But I didn't," Malachi said with malice in his voice. "I'm sorry, but he's never been there for us. Why should we be here for him now?"

"Because he's our father," Jaenelle said softly. "But we've had this discussion a lot of times before."

"And it's not what any of us want to hear," Malachi added.

Jaenelle nodded and took another sip of her drink. "So we both moved back. Because my dad was trying to ignore the fact that I'd almost been killed by a demon, I had to hide the protection circle and everything else I'd accumulated. I settled back in here and made a few new friends." Dean could hear her voice crack and a feeling of dread built in the pit of his stomach. "Marsha Deveraux was a good friend of mine. Our personalities totally clashed, but we made it work. It was a challenge being her friend."

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, both dreading to hear what was coming next. The way she was speaking told them enough: something had happened to Marsha.

"Three days ago, Marsha and I met up at her place. Another one of our friends, Sondra, joined us. Marsha thought it would be fun to play around with a Ouija board." She looked from Dean to Sam to see their reaction. Apparently she saw on their faces what she had expected: apprehension. "I could've told her then that it was a bad idea to play around with that, especially this low to the ground. You never know what kind of spirit you'll summon, but it will most likely be malevolent."

Sam nodded. "The lower you are, the more evil the spirit. Good research."

Jaenelle allowed a small smile to grace her features. "Right. Except I didn't tell her because I knew she wouldn't believe me. If she wanted to do something, she'd do it no matter what. So I played along and we started asking questions. At one point, Marsha asked the board who of us three would rule the world." She snorted. "That was so typically Marsha. She was doing something she didn't believe in so she asked the stupidest questions. What none of us had counted on was that we had summoned something."

Dean's heart started beating rapidly in his chest in fear. He looked at Sam who returned the gaze. His brother had picked up on it, too.

"The board started to spell out a sentence. It started with my name. Sondra and Marsha had been freaked out by then and both had let go of the planchette. I couldn't." She took a shaky breath. "I wanted to, but my fingers were stuck to it. I couldn't move. Marsha and Sondra even tried to pull me off. It didn't help. The planchette seemed stuck to the board and my fingers to the planchette. Sondra ran from the room, freaked. I didn't blame her. She," her voice broke as she remembered a night that must have been terrifying.

"Take your time," Dean said softly, taking the glass from her hand and holding it out to Malachi. He refilled it to the brim. Dean was surprised Jaenelle's speech wasn't slurred yet.

"Marsha went into some kind of trance," she continued as she took the glass back from Dean. "While she was spacing out, something materialized in the room." She choked on a sob. "Dean, I was so scared. It… It's not an ordinary demon. It's corporeal."

Stunned, Dean let his hand drop away from her back and looked over at Sam. His brother was looking equally freaked.

"What do you mean it's corporeal?" Sam asked. "Demons aren't corporeal. They can't manifest like that."

Jaenelle's tearfilled eyes looked up at him. "This one can. It took hold of me. Kept saying that he wanted me to serve him. At one point I snapped and told him I would never do such a thing. It was as if it hadn't even noticed Marsha in the room. But then, he did." She expelled a shaky breath. "It told me that I would succumb to his will by suffering. And it would start there."

Dean didn't want to hear the rest of the story. He wanted to stop Jaenelle from saying anymore, because he already knew how this would end. It sounded like the typical demon cliché you could see in a B-horror movie.

"It threw me against the wall and left its mark on me." She shoved the right sleeve of her robe up, exposing the burn in the form of a flame. "It did that in one freaking second. But that's not the worst of it." She kept staring at the burn on her wrist, but Dean saw the tears wet her cheeks. She looked up at him suddenly and the pain he saw in her eyes made his heart hurt. "It…" Her lip trembled as she tried to form the words. "It killed Marsha. It set her on fire. I don't know how, but suddenly she was on fire. And I watched her die and there was nothing I could do to help her. Oh God, Dean. It killed her."

Dean wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He closed his eyes as the images burned themselves into his brain. He hadn't been there to witness it, but he could imagine. Expelling a shaky breath himself, he continued to hold Jaenelle close as he looked at Sam.

"Find out whatever the hell you can on this thing," he said in a low voice, "but make sure you know how to kill it." Sam nodded at him and turned to the laptop. When Dean moved his head so he could look at Malachi, he saw the younger man sitting dazedly on the couch. "Mal," he said and Malachi turned his head. "Show me Jaenelle's room."

Malachi nodded and got up. Dean could see that the younger man was numb, not really understanding yet what his sister had told them. He picked Jaenelle up in his arms and followed Malachi to her room. She kept crying onto his shoulder, seemingly not even noticing that he was taking her to her room. When Malachi opened the door, Dean locked eyes with him. "Drink some whiskey yourself," he said, "You could use it, too. And try to be as quiet as you can. She needs her rest." Malachi nodded again and turned around to walk back to the living room.

Dean carried Jaenelle over to her bed and gently laid her down on it. She looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. He gently brushed a stray strand of her dark brown hair away from her face. "I promise you, Jaenelle. We'll kill this thing."

"I don't know if you can," she said so softly he almost didn't hear her.

"We can and we will," he retorted with conviction in his voice. "Now you just rest."

Jaenelle blinked her eyes slowly. Dean almost smiled. The whiskey hadn't had enough time yet to make her drunk, but it had succeeded in making her sleepy, exactly what his intention had been. He caressed her face with his hand, looking down at her as her eyes slid slowly closed. He waited a few seconds before he removed his hand and stood up.

Before he could move away, Jaenelle's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. He looked down on her and saw her staring up at him with fearful eyes. "Don't leave me again," she whispered.

His heart broke into a million little pieces. He sat back down again. "Honey, I won't leave you. I'm just going into the living room to help Sam."

She shook her head vigorously. "Please, Dean," she pleaded with her voice and eyes, "Don't leave me."

Tears formed at the corners of his eyes, but he blinked them away. "Okay, I won't leave you," he whispered.

"You'll stay?" she asked. It was a loaded question that he didn't know how to answer. Instead he pulled off his jacket and shoes and climbed onto the bed with her.

He wrapped her in his arms. "I'm here, sweetheart."

Not before long, he felt her relax in his arms. Her even breathing told him she was asleep, but he couldn't grasp his own tendrils of sleep. Too many thoughts were tumbling around in his head. The most important question that was on his mind wasn't how to kill the demon. Instead it was him asking himself if he could love her.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven 

Sam turned halfway as Malachi reentered the room and sat down on the couch. Fear was clearly etched on the youngest Hamilton's face. "You okay?" Sam asked.

Malachi shook his head, but didn't speak. Sam got up off the chair and walked over to the coffee table, sitting down on it so he sat across from Malachi. "Mal, talk to me," Sam urged him.

Malachi frowned, his rogueish features twisting. "She faced off a demon for the second time." His unseeing eyes snapped back to attention and seared into Sam's. "What do these bastards want with her? Why is she the target?"

Sam had been wondering the same thing. He shrugged. "I don't know, but we can find out." He motioned to the laptop. "I haven't been able to get much yet, but I'm still looking into this thing." He paused, thinking about something. "If we only knew what it looked like, I might be able to narrow down the search."

Malachi nodded. "I can understand that. What I don't understand is how this demon can have a body. I thought all demons were just mist and power?"

Sam sighed. "Yeah, that's what we thought, too. All the demons we've come across so far have been incorporeal. Demons who have bodies are possessing someone. It's not their own." He raked a hand through his hair. "I don't get it."

Mal snorted. "Well, if you're at a loss, there's not a chance we can figure this out, huh? I mean, you and Dean have been doing this your entire life. If you don't know then who the hell does?"

A frown creased Sam's forehead as he realized there was only one answer to that question. But that was impossible. His dad was missing and there was no way Sam was going to be able to contact him.

As if reading his thoughts, Malachi said, "What about your dad? Can't you call him?"

Sam looked down at his feet. "We can't."

Malachi almost growled. "Why the hell not? Your dad is the reason why you're hunting ghosts and stuff, right?"

"He's missing," Sam blurted out.

Malachi's eyes grew wide in shock. "What do you mean, he's missing?"

"Exactly like I said," Sam said, getting angry. "He's gone. Dean and I have been trying to find him for months. We don't know if he's still alive or dead and why he's avoiding us. We're on a wild goose chase trying to find him while in the mean time we get rid of everything in between." He almost snarled. "I want to find him, Mal, but we lost his trail a while ago."

Malachi blinked at him and didn't speak for several seconds. Then, he sagged on the couch, his shoulders slumping. "We're screwed, huh?"

"No, we're not. We'll find out what this thing is and how to kill it. I swear to you, Mal, we'll protect your sister."

Malachi stared at Sam for a while. Sam could see the emotions cross the guy's face and wished he felt as sure as he'd sounded. In all fairness, he didn't know where to begin looking for this demon. It was so completely different from what they had ever come across that he was at a loss. This one had its own body which meant they couldn't exorcise it. So there had to be another way to get rid of it. But how?

Resigning himself to his fate of an all-nighter, he stood up and placed a hand on Malachi's shoulder. "I'll get my own laptop out of the car. You research on yours while I research on mine. Together we're bound to find it sooner rather than later."

Malachi nodded. "I'll make some coffee."

Sam watched as Malachi walked into the kitchen then turned around to the door. Before he reached it, he turned around and looked down the hallway to where Dean had gone with Jaenelle. He had expected his brother to come back out to help with the research, but he still hadn't come out of the room.

Redirecting his body, he walked down the hallway and stopped in front of the door that had a plaque on it. Sam thought it must've been Jaenelle's room when she was a kid because the plaque was adorned with tiny little faires and had her name on it.

Trying to be as silent as possible, he turned the handle and opened the door. When there was a big enough crack to poke his head through, he peeked into the room and froze when he saw Dean and Jaenelle on the bed. Illuminated only by moonlight, Sam could barely make out his brother holding Jaenelle close to him, his arms protectively surrounding her. Sam didn't want to disturb his brother and he had a feeling that Dean wouldn't leave her even if Sam asked him. So he retreated as silently as before and made his way back to the living room.

Malachi stood in the doorway that led to the kitchen, leaning with one shoulder against the doorpost, his legs crossed at the ankles. "He's not going to leave her side, you know."

Sam nodded. "I know. How's that coffee coming? I have a feeling we'll be the only two researching tonight."

Mal looked back into the kitchen over his shoulder. "A few more minutes and we can give our bodies the caffeine that it needs."

"Alright. I'll go get my laptop and we'll get started," Sam said with a nod of his head. Malachi returned it and turned back to check on the coffee.

Sam walked to the door and stepped out into the crisp night air. He took a deep breath and expelled it, watching it as it formed a cloud in front of him. "Man," he mumbled, raking a hand through his hair again. He walked across the porch and down the stairs towards Dean's car. In the light that filtered through the trees, Sam could just barely make out the Impala.

He retrieved his laptop from the backseat then closed the door as silently as he could. He started to walk back to the house when a sound stopped him. He cocked his head to listen, but all was still. Turning around, his eyes scanned the woods around him, but the little light coming down from the moon didn't help. All he saw was darkness.

Frowning, he turned back around and began walking again. He didn't stop this time, but continued on to the door and walked inside. Malachi was still in the kitchen so Sam set his laptop on the coffee table and turned it on. He didn't feel good. It wasn't a physical sensation but more of a feeling that something was wrong. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake it off.

When Mal walked into the room with two mugs of coffee in his hands, Sam looked up at him. "Tell me, do you have the feeling that something's completely wrong?" he asked.

Malachi frowned at him and set the mugs down. "A demon is after my sister. I'd answer yes."

Sam shook his head. "Not that. Right now. I have this strange feeling something's happening or is going to happen."

Mal raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you have some sort of psychic ability."

He snorted. "No, I'm not psychic, but I can feel that something's wrong. It's more like intuition."

"Which you should have after having spent your entire life chasing the nasties," Malachi replied as he sat down behind his laptop.

Sam smiled. Choosing to ignore the ominous feeling he had, he turned his attention to his own computer. As he opened up his Internet browser, he took a sip of his coffee. With one hand he typed in an address and sat back as his gaze was drawn to the window. A knot formed in his stomach as he realized that something was approaching and fast.

"Mal," Sam said with a hint of a warning in his voice.

Malachi picked up on it and shot his head up. "What?"

Sam set his mug down and stood up to walk to the window. He pushed the curtain aside and peered out into the darkness, not knowing what he was looking for. The knot in his stomach tightened even further. He felt Malachi join him.

"Sam, what's going on?"

Sam frowned in worry and fear. He didn't know how he knew, but he did. And it scared him. "It's coming."

--------------------------------------------

Dean lay on his back with Jaenelle cradled in his arms. She was fast asleep, her breath tickling his neck everytime she exhaled. He closed his eyes as an unfamiliar feeling swept over him. Except it wasn't that strange a feeling. He'd felt it before, two years ago.

"I can't," he whispered. "I can't put her in jeopardy."

He pushed the feeling away and instead focused his thoughts on the demon that was threatening Jaenelle's life. She hadn't said anything about it except that it had a body and had killed her friend, but he knew there was something more that she needed to add to her explanation. She needed her sleep, but the others also needed to know more about this demon so that they could research it properly. Otherwise they would just run around in circles, not knowing where to start and where to end.

Gritting his teeth, he cursed what he was and what he did. He desperately wanted Jaenelle to rest up but he knew he had to wake her. She had to tell him more. They had to know more before they could even begin to think about defeating this thing.

Shaking her gently, he whispered, "Wake up, Jaenie."

In answer, she muttered something unintelligible and snuggled up closer to him. Her body was now flush against his and his heartbeat sped up a notch or two, or three. He'd never touched her like this before. He'd held her, hugged her and carried her, but never before had she been snuggled up against him. It touched a part of him that he'd been keeping buried deep inside.

Shaking her again, he spoke up a little louder. "Jaenelle, time to wake up."

Jaenelle frowned in her sleep and shook her head. "Sleep."

Dean couldn't help but chuckle. "Jaenelle, come on, wake up." He shook her again.

This time, she opened her eyes. "What?" she asked groggily as her eyes slid closed again.

"Time to research," he answered as he tried to slide out of her embrace. Her arms tightened around him, not letting him go.

"No research," she said sleepily. "Sleep."

Dean closed his eyes again, wishing he were with her under different circumstances. But then he realized that he wouldn't have been there in the first place if it hadn't been for the demon. It was a twisted situation and he hated it. He'd much rather be with her under normal circumstances where he could just lay there, content to be with her.

The door opened a crack and Dean could see Sam's outline from the light in the hallway. "Dean?" his brother whispered.

"Yeah," he whispered back.

"I need your help," Sam said from the doorway, keeping his body behind the door.

"With what?"

"Setting up a perimeter."

Dean's heart froze in fear. "You think it'll come for her now?" he asked.

He could just make out Sam shrugging. "I don't know, but we'd better be safe than sorry."

"I'll be right out," Dean said and Sam disappeared. He sighed deeply and roughly pulled his body away from Jaenelle's. Her body slumped hard on the bed, hard enough to make her lift her head off the pillow.

"…the hell?" she asked groggily. "Where'd my pillow go?"

Dean chuckled. "It's good to know you only see me as an object," he said sarcastically.

Jaenelle turned her head to him and frowned at him. "Hey, I was kind of enjoying having a human pillow. You make for a nice one, too."

Dean grinned and flicked the light on. Jaenelle squinted against the sudden harsh light and covered her eyes. She moaned. "It's customary to sleep for at least 8 hours after having downed four glasses of whiskey, Dean."

He walked over to her closet and picked some clothes randomly. He threw them at her. "We have to set up a perimeter," he said as he walked to the door. "You know how to do that, right?"

"Of course, I do," Jaenelle snapped at him. Disbelieving, he turned his head to look at her. She was looking at him with an angry expression marring her beautiful face.

Stunned, he turned his entire body to face her. "What's wrong?"

Jaenelle's eyes grew wide. "What's wrong? You ask me what's wrong?" she snapped as she got up off the bed, wide awake. She grabbed the clothes he had thrown at her and threw them at him. He batted them away.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, his voice rising in volume.

Jaenelle raised an eyebrow at him. She growled. "I should be asking you that, Dean." She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. "What makes you think you can order me around?"

He looked at her incredulously. "Excuse me?"

She sighed. "One minute you're this amazingly gentle guy who holds me and takes care of me and the next you're this insensitive asshole ordering me around. Make up your mind for once, Dean. Are you going to coddle me or order me around?"

He blinked. "I wasn't giving an order," he said calmly. "I just thought you'd like to help setting up the perimeter." He shrugged. "But since you're not, Sam and I can do it ourselves."

He reached for the doorknob and started to turn it until Jaenelle's hand clasped around his wrist. He looked up at her and into her angry eyes.

"No running away, Dean." Her eyes blazed with her inner fire. "You want to leave me with some lame excuse about setting up a perimeter?" She shook her head. "That's not going to happen. You're staying here until you tell me what's wrong with you."

"Nothing's wrong with me!" he yelled, shaking her off. "I want to protect you and just to be safe, we're going to place this house in a protective circle. Demons can't penetrate those, no matter if they're corporeal or not."

Jaenelle's eyes lost their fire. Her shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice softening. "I, I'm just on edge."

Dean studied her. "We all are, but that doesn't justify you calling me an asshole."

She cringed and he saw a tear sliding down her cheek. She looked up at him. "You don't understand, do you?" she asked softly.

"Understand what?"

"Why I don't want you to go."

Dean leaned his back against the door and crossed his arms in front of his chest. On the outside he seemed calm and collected, but on the inside he was a whirling mess. He wanted to hear her say it, but on the other hand he didn't. It would bring so many problems to the surface that they couldn't face right then.

He shook his head. "Let's not get into this right now, okay? We've got bigger issues to deal with."

Her tear-filled eyes searched his. He knew what she was looking for and he masked those emotions even more than usual. He wouldn't let her see it, not now. A demon was after her. They couldn't afford the luxury of showing emotions.

She straightened. "We need to resolve this now, Dean, because I'm not as good as you at pushing my feelings to the background. I've never had to."

"Be glad about that," he said gently. "It sucks to be me."

Jaenelle cupped his face in her hands. Once again he reveled in her touch; she awoke a part of him that he never let show to anyone else, not even his brother. She alone had the power to bring out the Dean that wanted out of this life and to live a normal one.

"Dean," she started but he stopped her by pressing a finger to her lips.

He shook his head. "Don't. Not now."

He let her go and turned around to open the door. As he stepped out of the room, he was just about to walk away when she spoke up.

"One day you'll have to stop running, Dean. But when you do stop running, I hope it ends here."

Closing his eyes, he clamped down his emotions. It was hard this time, because she had just said aloud his innermost desire. When the day came that he found his father and the thing that had killed his mother, he wanted to end this life. He wanted to start a new one, preferably with Jaenelle.

He felt her as she slipped past him, moved to stand in front of him. And he felt her breath on his face as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Crumbling, he fastened his own around her waist, burying his face in her neck. He breathed in her scent, burning it into his memory. Imprinted the way she felt in his arms.

When she pulled back from him, he held her closer, tighter against his body. He shook his head. "Not yet," he whispered. "I need to feel you."

He could feel her smile against his neck. "I can't believe nothing ever happened between us," she whispered.

"I have amazing self control," he retorted.

She laughed. "Dean," she breathed, his name on her lips sending a shiver down his spine. Then her body went rigid. He felt her muscles bunch up underneath his touch. When she next breathed his name, it was in fear. "Dean. We have to hurry."

He pulled back from her and looked into her eyes. The fear he had felt take over her body was overly present in her eyes. "What is it?" he asked, having a sinking suspicion he already knew.

Her gaze became unfocused and it looked to Dean as if her mind was travelling somewhere else. She blinked and scared eyes met his. "It's coming."

Dean stepped into motion. He let her go and ran into her room, pulling on his shoes as fast as he could. Leaving his jacket on the chair, he dashed out of the room and raced down the hallway. He found Sam and Malachi at the window, looking out into the darkness. "Sam," he said urgently. Sam turned around and Dean saw the same fear in his brother's eyes as he had seen on Jaenelle. "Grab the salt. We have to make a circle."

Sam nodded and grabbed Malachi's arm. "You gotta help us, Mal. We have to surround the entire house. That way, the demon won't be able to get to her."

Malachi nodded and ran into the kitchen. They could hear cupboards slamming closed before Malachi stepped back into the living room with a few bags of salt. "Will this do?" he asked.

From the doorway, Jaenelle snorted. Dean turned his head to her. She wore a pair of snug fitting jeans with a black turtleneck. Her hair was down, framing her face. In his eyes, she couldn't have looked more beautiful. But then, he was kind of biased on that topic.

"We need purified salt, Mal. Regular salt won't do." She held up three bags which appeared to be filled with salt. "Sea salt. Best stuff to protect yourself with."

Dean was impressed. "Nice work, Jaenie." She grinned at him. "Alright, we need to set it up now. Mal, I want you to keep a look out."

Sam shook his head. "No way, Dean. He needs to help, too. We don't have time and we need Mal's help."

From behind Jaenelle, Damon appeared in the room. "I can keep an eye out for you," he said as he pulled on a jacket.

Dean and Sam nodded. "Alright, people. Let's move. This circle needs to be set up as soon as we can manage." He glanced at Jaenelle. "You sure it's coming?"

Jaenelle nodded then looked at Sam. "Two of us felt it." Her voice shook slightly as she continued, "I say it's a good bet it's going to come for me now. Of course, I'm not psychic. I could be wrong, but it's definitely on the move."

Dean frowned and switched his gaze from Jaenelle to Sam. "Two of who?" Sam cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. Dean rolled his eyes. "You can tell me later. Now let's move."

He moved to the door, but before he could reach it, he heard Jaenelle's sharp intake of breath. Looking over his shoulder at her, his blood froze in his veins. Her eyes were glazed over and her body had snapped rigid. "Jaenie?" he asked tentatively.

"It's too late," she whispered, her eyes still looking somewhere that he couldn't see. "It's here."


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

As Dean and Sam watched, Jaenelle paced around the room, rubbing the demon-mark on her wrist with vigor, almost as if she could rub it off her skin. Dean was worried about her not only because the demon was somewhere in the vicinity but also because she was acting crazy. Her eyes were wild, roaming around the room as she paced.

"Jaenie, calm down," he said as he moved over to her and placed his hands on her arms. "We'll protect you."

Her troubled eyes shot up to his. "Yeah, see, that's where my problem lies. What if you can't protect me from it? This is unlike anything you've faced, Dean. How can you be so sure you can defeat it that easily?"

"I never said it was going to be easy, Jaenelle. But no matter what, Sam and I will protect you."

Her eyes lost its wildness and she smiled at him. She raised a hand to caress his cheek. "I know you will." She lowered her hand and stepped out of his reach. "But maybe I'm not going to let you."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Jaenelle laughed harshly. "Oh, come on. It's after me, not you."

Realization dawned on him. He stepped closer to her and held her arms tighter than before. "No way, Jaenie. No freaking way. You're not leaving here just to protect us. We're in this together."

She shook her head. "No, Dean. This time it's my turn to protect you. It's only after me. If I stay here with you, it'll kill you." She stared at him icily. "I'm not going to stand here and let that happen," she growled.

Dean glared at her and tightened his hold on her even more. "Jaenelle, you're not doing this. When you go out there alone, without protection, you'll die."

"It's better that I die than all of you!" she shouted.

Shocked, Dean stared at her. He appreciated her thought of wanting to protect him, but he couldn't see it working. He was not letting her out of his sight until this thing was over. If he had to knock her out in the process, so be it, but he was not going to let her do such a stupid thing.

"Jaenelle," Sam spoke up, "Don't be foolish. What can you do that'll stop the demon?"

Jaenelle glared at Sam. "Give myself up. Anything to keep all of you safe."

Sam shook his head. "No, Jaenelle. Dean's right. You want to protect us as much as we want to protect you, but this is not the way." He looked down at the bags of salt that Jaenelle had dropped. "We can't make a circle around the house anymore, but we can make a circle around ourselves. It won't get to any of us that way."

Jaenelle glared at them defiantly, shrugging Dean's hands off her and placing her hands on her cocked hips. She kept looking from one man to the other, then finally sighed. Picking up one of the bags, she mumbled, "Fine. But don't blame me when you get killed."

"Oh, trust me, honey," Dean said with sarcasm in his voice, "If I get killed, you're the first person I'm going to haunt."

She glanced over her shoulder at him and smirked. "I'd just like to see you try." She motioned to them. "Now get your butts closer and let's make this circle."

Dean snorted but moved over to her. He let her do the work of making the circle, all the time watching her face. It was set defiantly and he knew it was only a matter of time before she tried something that could endanger herself. She kept mumbling to herself under her breath, making him frown in confusion.

When she moved to close the circle, he grabbed her hand. "Get in, Jaenie." He'd noticed she'd been shifting her body so that she was outside of the circle. If she closed it before she got in, she was stuck outside of it.

Jaenelle groaned. "Damn you and your perceptiveness, Dean."

Malachi snorted. "Please. He's not letting you out of his sight, Jaenie." He moved over to her and smacked her on the back of her head, making her yelp. "Now get the fuck in here and close the damn circle."

Jaenelle blinked at her little brother, shocked. "What did you just say?"

Malachi grinned. "I said 'fuck'. Big whoop. Close the damn thing."

With a sigh, she did just that. She'd encompassed most of the room in the circle as Sam and Damon had moved the couch into the middle of it.

Ending the circle where she'd begun it, Jaenelle filled the last gap with salt. "Tell me I did that widdershins," she pleaded as she looked at Dean.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Widdershins?"

She nodded. "Counterclockwise. It helps empower the circle."

Sam looked at her with an amused look on his face. "You seriously put too much research in this."

Jaenelle shrugged. "I've learned to be prepared and yeah, I might've gone overboard on the research, but in the end precaution is the best defense."

"That's true," Sam said with a chuckle and suppressed a shiver thar ran along his spine. He'd been feeling flustered up until a second ago. Instantly, he knew something had changed.

Jaenelle frowned and shivered. "Is anyone else freezing cold?" She wrapped her arms around herself and started rubbing her arms to warm herself. When she looked at Sam, he saw the realization in her eyes just as it clicked with him.

"It's gone?" he asked her, not believing what he was feeling. She nodded her head once. "Why would it go away now when it was so close to you?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it got side tracked."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Side tracked? It was coming for you. Why would it go somewhere else now?"

"Hell if I know," Jaenelle answered as she flopped down on the couch. "I'm not all knowing, Sam. Yes, the demon is after me and left its mark on me, but that doesn't mean I can actually get inside its head. I'm just saying what I think is going on. I'd be more surprised if I'm right than if I'm wrong."

Dean looked from Sam to Jaenelle. "What the hell are you two talking about?"

Malachi raised a hand. "I second Dean's question."

Jaenelle gave them both an apologetic smile. "Sorry." She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "I don't know why, but I sensed the demon coming, right? I have no idea how or why, but now I also know that it's no longer coming here."

Malachi stared at her incredulously. "Okay, you're starting to really freak me out, sis."

She smirked at her brother. "Join the club."

Dean sat down next to her, resisting the urge to touch her. "So you can sense this demon?" he asked.

Jaenelle hesitated, but nodded. "I guess you can say that."

"Maybe it's because you're wearing its mark," Damon spoke up, surprising everyone.

Dean stared at Damon then blinked and looked at Sam. His brother shrugged. "What makes you say that, Damon?"

Damon shrugged. "Wouldn't it make sense that way? Jaenelle isn't psychic so she wouldn't pick up on it that way, but she does have its mark on her. Maybe it's some kind of connection between her and the demon."

"Wow, dad," Malachi mumbled.

Jaenelle stared at her father. "Since when are you so interested in demons?"

Damon gave his daughter a penetrating glare. "Since you almost got killed by one."

Dean's mind tumbled around the information until he came across something that didn't make sense. He laid a hand on Jaenelle's arm and turned to Sam. "You said you felt it, too?" he asked, pushing away the question that he really wanted to ask. But he'd get to that later when this was all over.

Sam looked uncomfortable for a second before nodding his head. "Yeah. I felt it."

"What does that mean? If Jaenelle really has some kind of connection with this demon because of the mark, then why did you feel it, too?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't know."

Dean made a sound low in his throat and stood up. He walked to the edge of the circle and with his boot scuffed away some of the salt, opening it.

"Dean!" Jaenelle yelled. "Are you crazy? Maybe I'm wrong and it still is here. You don't just open a circle without knowing if it's gone or not!"

Dean glared at her over his shoulder as he walked out of the circle. "It's gone," he growled. "Otherwise we would've seen it already."

He walked over to Sam's laptop and tapped a few keys to make the screen come back to life. When he saw that Sam had just accessed the site he'd wanted to go to, he typed in a few keywords and pressed enter.

"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam asked as he walked across to him.

"Researching," he answered gruffly.

"But we don't know what to look for. What are you going to do? Google demon and see what pops up?"

He shook his head. "I'm looking for that mark."

Jaenelle walked up to him. "My mark?" she asked.

"Yeah. Sam, I swear, you had that mark up on the screen and you didn't even read what demon it belonged to?"

Sam looked embarrassed. "We had more pressing things to deal with at the time."

Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother. "Like what?"

"Getting me drunk," Jaenelle mumbled.

"And then she started telling us about the demon, you took her to her room to probably fool around, Sam and I were going to research but stopped when he felt the demon coming and we had to get into a protective circle," Malachi rattled off.

Dean paused, his fingers hovering over the keys. "Good point. But we didn't fool around." He started to move the mouse when his eyes picked up on the symbol on the screen. "Ah, here we go." He moved the pointer towards it and clicked it. The webpage made a slow transfer from the small picture to a larger one. It was the one they'd seen before.

"Yeah, that's it," Jaenelle said as she looked down on her wrist. The burn on her wrist looked a lot like a lick of flame, just like the picture on the screen.

"What kind of demon does it belong to?" Sam asked as he squatted down next to Dean.

"Let's find out, shall we?" Dean said and clicked the back button. He read over the text surrounding the picture and frowned. "This isn't right," he mumbled.

Jaenelle leaned over his shoulder, looking at the screen. "What does it say?"

"It says here that this demon is incorporeal." He moved his head and he found himself looking at Jaenelle's profile. "You said it had a body."

Jaenelle nodded, but he could see her confusion. "It did. It looked like a demon that you see on Buffy. You know, ugly and demonic."

"Describe it to me."

Jaenelle let out a breath. "Its eyes were red, a kind of burning red. Its skin was varied in places. Black, red and orange. The closest I can come to describing it is hardened lava. And it had claws with long nails. I'd say about three to four inches?"

The visual image that gave Dean was bad enough for his stomach to contract. "Okay, evil ass demon. I get it." He started reading the text again and paused as his eyes read over something. "Ah, shit."

"What?" Sam asked. "What is it?"

Dean took a deep breath and read aloud, "The fire demon, known in Latin as Ignis Everto, takes over bodies that are close to its victim. Its essence then transforms the host's body, making it look like the true form of the demon before it became a mistified power."

Silence extended over the room. After a while, Jaenelle whimpered and backed away from him. He turned his head to look at her and saw a look on her face that he couldn't describe. He stood up and walked over to her, but she backed away from him. Realization hit him as he searched her eyes. "Damn," he muttered, pulling her into his arms.

"Bodies that are close to me," Jaenelle mumbled against his shoulder. She lifted her head to look at him and he wanted to do everything in his power to get rid of the fear in her eyes. He saw her blink away tears. "It doesn't say anything about the bodies being dead or alive, does it?"

Dean looked at his brother and with a look told him to check it out. Sam nodded and took Dean's place behind the laptop, his eyes searching the text. There was silence for a few minutes as Sam read and Dean kept holding Jaenelle, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He wondered why demons wanted her so badly, why they went after the people she cared about.

"It doesn't say anything about the hosts needing to be dead," Sam said and looked over his shoulder at them.

Jaenelle whimpered again and fisted Dean's shirt in her hands. "This can't be happening," she whispered. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and he could feel tears sliding down her cheeks onto his skin. He raised one hand off of her waist and started to caress her back through the fabric of her sweater.

"Jaenie," he spoke softly, "You'll have to tell us what it is you're thinking. I can only guess. Please. Talk to us."

She sniffled but kept her face buried against his neck. "Sondra," she whispered.

He closed his eyes when he realized his instincts had been right. When it first came to her, the demon had taken possession of Jaenelle's friend Sondra. Maybe it was still in possession of her, but Dean didn't want to know. It was bad enough that two of Jaenelle's friends had already fallen victim to the demon.

"Sam, go over the papers starting three days ago. Look for bodies that have been burnt beyond recognition. Maybe it took control of more than one person," Dean told his brother. He wanted to do it himself, but he had to take care of Jaenelle first.

"Sure," Sam replied. "What will you be doing?"

Dean scooped Jaenelle up into his arms and looked at his brother. "I'm going to take care of Jaenelle." He switched his gaze from his brother to Malachi and Damon. "I want you two to set up a circle around the house. It's better to be safe than sorry."

"Are you going to give her whiskey again, Dean?" Damon asked nonchalantly.

Dean frowned at the older man and shook his head. "No." He started heading toward her room again but stopped near the hallway. "Sam," he called out, "Go to the car and get the shotgun. Load it with rocksalt and bring as much as you can carry inside. Yell for me when you need me." He didn't wait for his brother to reply. Instead he made his way over to Jaenelle's room with her still in his arms.

He kicked the door open and laid her down on her bed. For a few seconds he looked down on her as she cried, then moved over to the door to close it. Kicking off his shoes again, he climbed onto the bed and lay down next to her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close against her. Whimpering, she moved her body against his, waking up a part of him he'd been pushing to the background since he first saw her again. The hunger inside him, the need to be with her, overwhelmed him. He knew he couldn't do anything about it, knew it wasn't the right place or time, but he couldn't stop needing her.

"Dean," she murmured, nuzzling his neck. Her breath tickled his skin and he shivered.

His heart pounding ferociously in his chest, he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. He expelled a shaky breath while he kept holding her tight, wishing desperately for a different time. When she lifted her leg to have it rest on his hips, his body tensed up. She moved her body so she was straddling his waist, her hands roaming over his shirt covered chest. "Jaenie," he mumbled, gently taking hold of her hands.

Jaenelle bent forward, capturing his lips with her own. He moaned at the feel of it after waiting for two long years. She felt like a piece of heaven to him, a piece he wasn't allowed to have. Reluctantly, he pushed her gently away from him and gazed into her eyes in the dim light. He shook his head. "This isn't the right time, Jaenie," he whispered, holding her face between his hands.

She frowned at him and shook her head, making him release her. "It never is," she replied in a whisper. Then she bent forward and touched her lips against his again.

His body shook from the sheer force of the kiss and the way Jaenelle sat on top of him, moving her hips against him. He moved his arms so he could entwine his fingers in her hair and pull her closer to him, tilting her head so he had better access to her.

Lust overruled common sense this time. His mind was clouded by the scent and feel of her, the way she was rubbing against him. He held her tight against him and rolled them both over so that he was on top of her. He leaned on his elbows as he pulled away from her, looking into her eyes.

As if she knew what he was thinking, she rested a finger against his lips and shook her head slightly. "Shh," she whispered as she traced a finger over his lips.

He turned his head to kiss the palm of her hand. Kissing her gently, he reached down and tugged at the hem of her sweater, exposing the skin of her stomach to him. He slid his hand underneath the black fabric and nearly moaned at the feel of her soft skin underneath his palm.

Pulling away from her again, he moved his kisses from her mouth to her chin and trailed a path over to the nape of her neck. She squirmed beneath him, rubbing herself against his groin which had tightened almost painfully. He gritted his teeth at the movement and kept his attention on the skin of her neck, gently nipping and kissing.

Jaenelle's hands travelled down his back and tugged at his shirt, trying to pull it out of his jeans. He sat up on his knees and pulled her up with him, claiming her lips for his own for a brief moment. Her hands found the hem of his shirt again and pulled it up until she reached his elbows. He raised his arms and let her finish relieving him of his shirt. As she did, she kissed his stomach, his chest, causing goosebumps to rise on his skin.

The shirt finally came off and she threw it away carelessly. He watched her as she reached for the hem of her sweater and pulled it off her, throwing that one away as well. He continued to watch her as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. This had been something he'd only fantasized about for the past two years, but he didn't want it to happen this fast. He wanted to savor the experience.

He stopped her by kissing her forcefully and pushing her back onto the mattress. One hand travelled down her now naked arm and entwined his fingers with hers while his other hand went to the waistband of her jeans. He fumbled with the button until it popped free and then slid the zipper down. She wriggled her hips until he let go of her hand and sat back on his knees, pulling her jeans down her legs. Once those were gone, he let his hands travel up her legs slowly, caressing the skin he'd only glimpsed before.

Grinning at him, Jaenelle sat up on her knees, her satin-covered breasts pressed against him sending his brain reeling. She bit her lower lip and raised her hands to roam over his chest. She followed the slow and torturous movements of her hands with her mouth, trailing a path of kisses down to the waistband of his jeans. As she continued to place kisses on and around his hipbone, her hands worked on unbuttoning the jeans and pushing them down to pool around his knees. He maneuvered himself off the bed and hurriedly finished what Jaenelle had started. Then he climbed back on and pressed himself against her back.

She moaned softly as he reached around her and took her breasts in his hands, kneeding softly. Her head dropped back to rest on his shoulder. As he teased her by gently massaging her breasts, he lowered his head to nibble at the sensitive skin on her neck. He let one hand break away from her breast and let it trail slowly down her stomach until he reached her panties. She squirmed against him and whimpered softly as his hand went down a little further and started caressing her through the fabric of her panties.

Feeling her underneath his hand made him moan and his erection strained against his boxers. He slid her panties aside and let his fingers play with the tiny hairs in the most private part of her body. His body shivered as he parted her nether lips and caressed her, felt her. He could just imagine what it would feel like to have her heat wrapped tightly around him.

His name left her mouth in a breathless moan as she grinded her ass into him. Even though he knew what she wanted, he couldn't quite make himself to give her that just yet. He wanted to savor this experience. This wasn't some girl he'd met in a bar; this was Jaenelle, the only girl who had ever had the key to his heart.

He released her breast and with that hand pulled down the panties while his other was still teasing her. Jaenelle turned her head so that her lips came in contact with the skin of his neck and whispered huskily, "Please, Dean."

Pulling his hand away from her, he restrained himself while she turned herself around, discarded of the panties completely and faced him. He wrapped his arms around her again and attacked her lips with such intensity that they nearly toppled over. His hands travelled up her back to the clasp of her bra and finally undid it. As the material slid away from her skin, his hands travelled up her arms to her shoulders. With just a finger, he pushed the straps of the bra down her arms until her arms too were completely bare. Then all that was left were the larger pieces of fabric that cupped her breasts. The satin that he'd felt before. He broke away from her gently and dropped his arms to his sides, watching her. She smiled at him and slowly got rid of the bra.

When she was finally completely bared to him, he had trouble breathing. He didn't have enough time to burn that image of her in his brain, because her hands were travelling down his chest again and pulled down his boxers. Wriggling himself free of them and falling down onto the mattress, he threw them away.

Jaenelle laughed when he tumbled to the mattress and straddled him. He took in the sight of her and her creamy white skin and the way her hands were travelling over his stomach and chest. She bent forward and captured his lips with hers for a soul scorching kiss until she let go again and sat back. She held a condom in her hands. He had no idea where she'd gotten it from, but he was glad she'd decided to get it. He would've forgotten all about it in the state he was in. All he could think of was her and how good she felt. He wondered if she would taste just as good and how she'd feel wrapped around him.

She sat back, exposing his erection to her eye. She wrapped a hand around his shaft and watched him as she started to move her hand up and down. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back into the pillow. She stroked him and made him even harder than he already was. When she stopped stroking, he snapped his head up, only to watch her as she opened the condom's package and got it out. He kept watching as she rolled it out over him sensuously. Normally he hated condoms, but the way she put it on him was such a turn-on he didn't care.

His breathing grew heavier as she moved up his body to position herself over him and brought him to her entrance. When she slid onto him, he groaned and grabbed her by the waist. She took him in inch by inch, slowly, torturously, until he couldn't take it anymore and raised his hips to meet her. She let out a startled gasp as he slid completely inside of her and filled her.

Dean's hands gripped her waist hard as she started to ride him, rising up high enough so only the tip of him was still inside her and then taking him back in. Her pace started out slow but grew frantic and fast paced, her breath coming out in short gasps. She rested her hands on his chest and her hair fell in front of her face, obscuring her features from him. She started riding him faster and faster, her pace becoming more frantic with each lowering of her body.

He sat up and wrapped his arms around her and without leaving her body, shifted positions so he was on top of her and could take control. Freezing all motions, he captured her lips, demanding she open up to him. She did and he slid his tongue inside the crevice of her mouth, seeking out the warmth he had wanted for so long. As he kissed her, he moved out of her until he was barely inside of her anymore. In answer, Jaenelle moaned through the kiss and wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to pull him to her.

He left her lips and kissed the tip of her nose. "Shh," he shushed her as she kept moaning and moving to have him inside her again. "No need to rush, baby." He touched his lips to hers lightly, letting his touch linger for a few seconds. Then he kissed her gently, causing goosebumps to rise on his skin even though he was hot all over. When she relaxed in his arms and her legs loosened the tight hold on his waist, he moved his hips and entered her slowly.

She arched her back at him, pressing her breasts against him. Breaking free from the kiss, he moved his mouth over to an area he hadn't yet explored with his tongue. Capturing her swollen nipple between his teeth, he tugged gently, causing Jaenelle to fist his hair in her hands and arch her back at him once more. He flicked and licked, tugged and nipped at her breast and moved over to the other one. He moved in and out of her at a leisurely pace, slowly going in, slowly going out, driving himself insane with need. As he played with her other breast, she tightened her hold on his waist, her legs wrapping tightly around him. Her hands travelled up and down his back, her nails scratching his skin. It only managed to heighten his already throbbing need to release himself inside of her.

"God, Jaenie," he murmured against her skin, "You feel so good."

"Mmm," Jaenelle breathed with a smile on her lips. "I love how you make me feel while inside of me."

He braced himself on his hands and pulled out of her. She tried to move her hips to have him fill her again, but he thrust into her forcefully, making her gasp for breath. As he thrust into her again and again, putting more force into his thrusts, he felt the pressure near the pit of his stomach heighten. His pace fast and frantic now that he was nearing his release, he drove himself into her over and over, arching his back so he could fill her completely.

Her breathing came fast and labored, matching his. Her hands that had been grasping his shoulders travelled down to cup his ass tightly and tried to push him farther into her. He groaned low in his throat as he bent his head towards hers and kissed her passionately, still driving himself harder and deeper into her.

"Dean," Jaenelle breathed, "Oh God, Dean."

Hearing his name on her lips like that sent his need for her to sky-rocket. He rested his weight on his elbows as he kept on driving himself into her, pulling almost all the way out and then thrusting back in with force. His pace, frantic and hastened, sped up even more until his vision darkened, stars lit the night sky of his mind and he felt the pleasure that only she could give him. Beneath him, Jaenelle let out a strangled cry and he felt her muscles tighten, tighten, until she rode the waves of her own orgasm.

He slumped down on her, spent and sated, and buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. Her arms wrapped around him lazily. He felt her heartbeat over the beating of his own.

Rolling off of her and out of her, he felt cold and incomplete, so he reached out to her and pulled her against him, her body seemingly blending with his own. He felt whole now. And with that thought on his mind, he drifted off into a blissful sleep.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Dean stood next to Sam in front of the house where all the tragedies had begun. "So this is where the demon first showed itself to you?" he asked Jaenelle who stood a few feet in front of them.

With her back to him, she nodded. "I think we somehow drew its attention to me when Sondra, Marsha and I played with the Ouija board."

"Another well-learned lesson never to mess with those things," Dean told her as he stepped closer to her.

She turned her head to look at him and managed to give him a small smile. "Lesson learned, indeed." She looked back at the small house that had once belonged to Marsha. She took a deep breath and reached out to grasp Dean's hand in hers.

It had only been a few hours since Dean had woken up in Jaenelle's bed with her lying peacefully asleep next to him. Reality had come flooding back to him as he had stared at the demon-mark on her wrist. She was in trouble and he had to save her. He had almost lost her two years before, but he wasn't going to let that happen this time.

"You ready for this?" Sam asked from where he stood on the other side of Jaenelle.

She nodded again. "As ready as I'll ever be." She grasped Dean's hand in hers and gave it a squeeze before letting go and started walking towards the house.

Sam moved to walk beside Dean and whispered, "You sure this is such a good idea, Dean? She should be in a protective circle where she'll be safe."

The corners of his mouth twisting up into a wry smile, Dean glanced at his brother. "I tried to talk her into staying home, but she wouldn't have it." He stopped walking and looked Sam in the eye. "Trust me, I want to see her safe more than anyone else, but she's stubborn. She'll never lay low just because we tell her to. She already survived a demon attack and she's determined not to let it happen again. All we can do now is stay with her and keep her from sacrificing herself to this thing."

Dean could see the sympathy in Sam's eyes, but wisely his brother didn't say anything. Instead he only nodded and resumed walking into the house.

Jaenelle stood at the door, looking down at the doorknob. Dean stopped next to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Jaenie? What's wrong?" He glanced at the doorknob but didn't see anything.

She snapped her head up and stared at the door. "I can't remember how I got away," she mumbled.

Dean looked at Sam and upon seeing his brother's confused look, shrugged. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I remember the demon burning the scar on me, I remember it killing Marsha, but I can't remember how I got away." She turned her head to look at him. "I shouldn't have survived. Why didn't it kill me?"

Dean tried to catch Sam's eye, but Sam looked away from him, hiding his expression. Dean had seen his brother do it more and more often these days, as if Sam didn't want to show Dean what he was thinking or feeling. It wasn't unlike him, but the level of brooding was definitely reaching an all new high.

Choosing to ignore it for now, he reached out his hand and turned the doorknob, pulling open the door. When it swung open outward, he saw that yellow police tape was hung diagonally across the doorframe. He stepped in front of Jaenelle and bent down to pass underneath the tape. Pushing away all nagging thoughts about Jaenelle's safety and Sam's odd behavior, he focused on his surroundings. To the left was a doorway into the kitchen which had been untouched by the fire. A little further on there was another doorway to the right that led into the living room. He stepped through it and nearly gagged. The smell of burnt flesh was still overly present and smoke had permeated the walls. He held his hand in front of his nose and mouth and tried not to breathe too deeply.

Near the window facing the back of the house, a large patch of carpet had been blackened and he could see the wood of the floor below peeking through. "Jesus," he muttered, covering his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket.

Sam and Jaenelle stepped into the room behind him. He wanted to go over to Jaenelle and hold her, comfort her, but he really needed to look over the room, see if he could spot something that would help them. Battling his urges, he stepped more into the room, looking from left to right.

"My God," Sam spoke up from the doorway.

Jaenelle pointed to the spot of blackened carpet. "That's where it killed her. She was standing there, shocked, when it…" Her voice trailed off and she looked away.

Sam laid a hand on her shoulder and gave it a light, hopefully reassuring squeeze. "We'll find whatever did this to her. I promise, Jaenelle."

She looked back at him and managed to give him a small smile. "I have faith in your abilities," she said softly. She turned her head to look at Dean who was searching the room and then shook it. "I need to get out of here."

Sam nodded. "Sure. I'll go with you."

Jaenelle shook her head. "No, you help Dean. I'm fine."

Dean stopped his search while Sam raised an eyebrow at her. Before Dean could get a word in, Sam said, "No. If you want to go somewhere, one of us will go with you. It's safer that way."

She looked between the two of them and smirked at them. "And what are you going to do when the demon shows up? Shoot it with rock salt?" She snorted. "That's not going to help."

Sam shot an exasperated look at Dean. His brother just shrugged at him and resumed his search. "I don't know what I'll do," he answered Jaenelle, "but I do know that there is no way we're going to let you be alone right now."

Jaenelle sighed and threw her hands up in the air. "Fine. Whatever. Can we go now?"

"Dean, I'll take her outside," Sam called over to his brother.

"Yeah, I'll be right out," Dean answered.

Sam followed Jaenelle out of the house and back to the car, where she sat down on the hood. The wind blew her hair into her face and she roughly pushed it away. Grumbling under her breath, she pulled her hair back in a ponytail, held it in place and then pulled up the hood of her sweater.

"It's just so frustrating," she suddenly said out loud, startling Sam. He opened his mouth to say something, but she kept on going. "I mean, this thing is after me and why? We don't even know what it wants with me. If it wanted to kill me it could've done that easily two nights ago. Instead, it burned its mark on me and is trying to lure me out by burning down my hometown." She looked up at Sam and he could see the anger and pain in her eyes. "Can you explain it to me, Sam? I really wish someone would tell me why this thing is after me."

Sam sat down next to her, his hands in his jean pockets. "I wish I knew so I could tell you, but I don't. There wasn't a lot of information on this demon on the Internet." Her hand collided with his arm so fast that he barely felt the sting it until he realized what she'd done. "What did you do that for?"

"Maybe we shouldn't look on the Internet. Some things can't have been put up on the 'net yet. Maybe this thing is written down somewhere in a book," Jaenelle said excitedly.

Sam chuckled. "Yeah. Maybe. We'll check it out at the library later."

They continued to sit together in silence, Jaenelle studying her fingernails and Sam scanning the area around him. When Dean stepped from the house a few minutes later, Sam stood up from sitting on the hood of the Impala and walked towards his brother.

"Did you find anything?" he asked as soon as he was in earshot of his brother.

Dean shook his head. "Nothing that can help us." He looked back over his shoulder at the house. "I don't like that we can't find out what this thing is, Sam. The EMF-meter barely even registered anything. Something's weird about this one."

Sam nodded. "I know. It's like it's eluding us consciously."

Dean snorted. "Demons like fights. The chaos it brings to the people is what they live off of. This one is doing nothing but scaring Jaenelle."

Sam frowned and kept looking at the house. "So there's no connection here that we can do anything with."

Dean shook his head again and walked away from Sam, heading towards Jaenelle still sitting on the hood of his car. Sam stayed put for a few seconds then followed his brother.

"Anything?" Jaenelle asked when Dean stopped in front of her.

"Nothing," he replied as he leaned against the car.

"What's going on here?" Sam asked. Jaenelle looked up at him with a question clearly in her eyes. "We have a demon burning down houses, but for what purpose is it doing that? Is it trying to scare you or make you come to it?"

Jaenelle shook her head. "If I could get into the head of this thing, which I can't and don't want because ew, I'd tell you all you needed to know. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Dean asked.

"For getting you guys out here before I knew anything. I should've waited until I knew what this thing was," she said as she slid off the hood of the car.

Sam and Dean shared an incredulous look, then Dean turned to Jaenelle. "You did the right thing, Jaenie. If you'd waited any longer you could've died. We're here now, though, and we're going to figure this bitch out."

Jaenelle stood facing Dean, her hands in the pockets of her jeans. The hoodie of her sweater covered her hair and her eyes were red, but she'd never looked as beautiful in his eyes as she did right then. And when she smiled at him – in that smile he could read that she was truly glad he was there – he wished he'd found his father already, killed the demon that killed his mother and could stop hunting.

It was such an unusual thought for him that it shocked him. He masked his feelings a second before Jaenelle could read it on his face and smirked at her. "Let's go," he said and turned to walk to the driver's side door. He stopped halfway in the turn because he smelled something he shouldn't be.

He coughed and gagged and heard Sam and Jaenelle do the same thing. "Shit," he said around a few coughs. "What the hell?"

When he stopped coughing and started breathing through his nose, the smell only got worse. He resorted to breathing through his mouth.

"Dean," Sam said from behind him but there was an underlying message in his brother's voice that made Dean turn to face him. When he fully saw Sam and Jaenelle, both were looking past him. Jaenelle's eyes were round, her pupils dilated in fear. He spun on his heels to see what he would find and, shocked, took a few steps back.

The thing in front of him looked to come right out of a nightmare. He'd heard Jaenelle's description of it, but he'd imagined it to be an ordinary demon. This was no ordinary demon. It stared at him with its red eyes and there was intelligence there. This thing worked on its own. No one would be able to summon it and stop it from killing them, which led him to the conclusion that this demon hadn't been summoned at all.

He moved back, step by cautious step until he could feel Jaenelle's labored breath on his neck. If this thing attacked in any way, it was crucial that it didn't get to Jaenelle. Dean knew this and took on a protective stance in front of her. Sam stood next to Jaenelle, as helpless as Dean, not knowing how they could kill it. But they would protect her, no matter what.

When it opened its mouth to speak, it seemed as though the earth let out a shiver of fear. Leaves that were on the ground started to slowly drift away on an unfelt breeze; branches above them moved to that same invisible wind. The most unnerving thing of all was that a heat seemed to emanate from its opened mouth.

"So much power," it rumbled, lifting its head high and sniffing the air with a nose that was half rotted away. "I shall have you. Sooner or later, you shall be mine and I shall be whole again."

Its red eyes roamed over all three. "No longer you," it murmured and raised a hand. Dean tensed, ready to do anything to protect her. When it only flicked its wrist, he was surprised. He became even more surprised when within a second the demon seemed to disappear with a pop.

Jaenelle moaned behind him. "I think it's gone," he said cautiously, looking from left to right to see if the demon was still around.

Jaenelle moaned again and this time he caught the pained quiver in it. He turned to look at her and found her holding the wrist that had been branded by the demon. Worried, he caught her hand in his and made her release her wrist. She struggled, holding her hand tight around it.

"Jaenie, let me look," he pleaded gently while tracing small circles on the back of her hand. "I need to see what it did to you."

Jaenelle furiously shook her head. "No. I don't want to know. It's exactly like how it branded me in the first place. A small movement and I had a burn." She held her hand against her chest and started rocking back and forth on her heels. "It's done something worse now, I just know it."

Dean laid a hand on her forearm and made slow movements towards her hand as he spoke. "Jaenie, don't you think we need to know what it did? If we ever want to know how to get rid of this thing, we need to see what it did to you." He pleaded with his eyes to let him in. She frowned, but let go of her wrist. Turning her head, she held out her arm for Dean to inspect. What he saw surprised him more than finding the demon mark the first time. "What the hell?" he muttered, gently turning her wrist to see if maybe it was somewhere else. But no matter how he turned it, he couldn't see the burn.

"What? What is it, Dean?" Jaenelle asked, her voice quivering with fear and pain.

Dean looked up at her and frowned. "Whatever it did, I don't understand why," he said as he let go of her wrist.

Jaenelle turned her wrist around and around as Dean watched, trying to do the same thing he had just done. When she realized the same thing, she focused confused eyes on him. "It's gone," she mumbled, frowning. "The mark's gone."

Dean nodded. He looked at Sam who seemed as puzzled about all of it as him.

"Dean," Sam said, "We need to kill this thing. Fast. I don't like the looks of it."

Jaenelle locked eyes with Dean, holding their gaze together. She seemed to want to tell him something with just her eyes, but he didn't get the message. He tilted his head, confused as to what she was trying to convey to him. She rolled her eyes at him.

Utterly confused by the demon and Jaenelle, Dean shook his head. "I know, Sam," he finally answered his brother. "We will." He turned his body towards the car and walked to the driver's side door. He opened it and slid in behind the wheel while Jaenelle got in the back. Sam kept a slow pace, looking down at the ground and his hands in his pockets.

A hand touched Dean's shoulder. He turned his head to look at Jaenelle. She was frowning. "It removed its mark from me, Dean. Why?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know," he said as Sam opened the passenger side door. "But we'll figure it out, I promise."

Jaenelle shook her head. "You don't get it, do you? What it said. It marked me a few days ago because it wanted me for something. Now it's removed it." Again she tried to convey something through her eyes.

It finally clicked with him. He looked at his brother who was listening as well. "What were its words again?"

"No longer you," Jaenelle answered. "Which I think means its not coming after me any more."

Dean closed his eyes and softly banged his head against the headrest. "Damn."

Sam was the one who finally voiced everyone's thoughts. "It's going after someone else."


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten 

Instead of driving back to the Hamilton's cottage, Jaenelle directed Dean towards the town's library. The three of them bickered back and forth about who the demon could be going after now as they drove, Jaenelle occasionally telling Dean to go left or right. When they arrived at the library, Jaenelle was the first one out and walking towards the entrance.

"Jaenelle!" Dean shouted as he shut his door with a bang. "Would you wait a second?"

Jaenelle glanced over her shoulder at him and grinned. "Nope," she replied as she pulled open the door and stepped inside.

Dean made a face, but followed her movements through the glass double doors. Sam trailed slowly behind him, hands in his pockets, head bowed. Dean frowned at him, but didn't say anything as they'd just stepped inside. A large sign proclaiming, 'Silence, please,' hung on the wall next to the door.

Jaenelle was nowhere to be seen. Worried, Dean hastened his pace and started looking for her. He finally found her after several minutes in the mythology section. He walked up to her and laid his hands on her waist. "Don't ever do that again," he whispered harshly into her ear.

Jaenelle looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. "Don't worry, Dean. It's not after me anymore," she said in a low voice.

"How do you know that?" he argued. "This might just be a trick to get your guard down."

She placed the book she'd been holding back on the shelf and turned to face him. She cupped his face in her hands. "This is not going to be a repeat of two years ago, Dean. It won't get me this time. Because you know why?" She kissed the tip of his nose. "There are no drunken frat boys here."

He managed to give her a small smile. Bending down, he pressed his lips softly against hers. "Still, don't just walk away from me like that, okay? I don't want to see you possessed again."

Jaenelle shivered. "Me neither." Giving him a quick kiss on the lips again, she turned back to the shelves, searching for a book.

He stopped her by placing his hand on the book she was about to pull out. "From now on, where one of us goes, all of us go." He searched her eyes. "Alright? I don't want to take the risk of any one of us to get hurt by this thing."

Dean looked over to his left where Sam already sat at a table with a few books. He walked over to his younger brother, wondering why he seemed even more withdrawn than usual. Dean sat down opposite Sam and pulled one of the books towards him. Sam glanced up from the book he was looking through and quickly reverted his attention back to the pages.

Dean frowned at Sam and kicked him under the table. Sam yelped and jumped slightly out of his chair, making Dean chuckle.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Sam hissed in a whisper as he bent over the table slightly.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Quit it with the brooding, dude, or I swear I'm going to hit you."

Sam stared at him then leaned back and started reading the book again, the same thoughtful expression on his face. Dean sighed and opened his own book. His brother really needed to have some fun. This brooding crap was getting to be very annoying.

A few minutes later Jaenelle came to the table with a few books of her own in her arms. She set them down silently then opened the top one. She pulled one leg up and rested her foot on the chair while stretching the other out in front of her. Dean recognized it as her researching pose and silently laughed.

Minutes passed by while none of them spoke. The only thing that could be heard was the rustling of paper as they turned the pages. Finally, after an hour of silence and researching, Dean closed his book and slammed it down on the table. Both Jaenelle and Sam jumped.

He laughed softly. "I seriously need some coffee," he announced as he got up, grinning.

Jaenelle's hand wrapped around his wrist. "What was that crap about not going anywhere alone?" she asked him.

"That's for your safety. We know for a fact that it's not after me."

Jaenelle cocked her head to the side and stared at him. "Oh, really?" She stood and placed the book she was holding on the table. "Well, guess what hot-shot. If you want to get some coffee, we're all going to get some coffee. They were your rules, remember?"

Dean rolled his eyes. He indicated the books. "Then what about these? If we all go, these will get put back again."

Jaenelle shook her head. "The librarian is a friend of mine. I'll talk to her." She turned to leave but stopped and glared at Dean. "Is that okay, master?"

Dean glared back at her and jerked his head. "Fine. But stay in sight." She blew him a kiss and then walked over to the librarian.

"We could be here all day, Dean," Sam spoke up. "We have no idea where to look for this thing."

Dean sat down again and rested his elbows on the table. "I know, but what do you think we should do? You've seen this thing. We usually go in with guns blazing, but this one?" He shook his head. "It's nothing like we've ever encountered. We need to figure out how to kill it before we face it."

Sam looked thoughtful and nodded. "But still…"

Dean held up his hand. "We can argue over this all you want, Sam, but the fact is that we need more information first."

Jaenelle plopped down on the chair next to him so sudden that this time it was Dean that was startled. She chuckled at him.

"Anne says she'll leave the books on the table for us while we go out," she said, "but she also told me that we can get coffee from the back." She looked back and forth between brothers. "Whatever you want is fine with me."

Dean smirked at Sam. "You gotta love small towns, man. Everyone knows each other."

Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean and raised the book up again so that his face was hidden. He didn't want his brother nor Jaenelle to see his expression.

Since they had left the house where they had encountered the demon, its words had made Sam stop to think. It had said that it didn't want Jaenelle anymore and then it had said something about power. What power?

He lowered the book. "Guys, what power was the demon talking about?" he asked.

Both Jaenelle and Dean looked at him. "Huh?" they both spoke up.

Sam sat up and placed the book on the table. He braced his elbows on the wooden surface. "First it told us, 'Not you', right? Then it sniffed the air and said something about power. What power?"

Jaenelle blinked and glanced at Dean. "He's right," she said. "It did say that. And I remember it saying to me that first night that with my help, it would become corporeal again."

Dean frowned. "It's after power." He raised his hands and clasped them together in front of his face. "It needs power to get back its corporeal form. Right now it's still possessing people."

"And again we end up with the same question. What power, guys?" Sam repeated.

Sam looked from Dean to Jaenelle and found the latter looking down at her feet. She was biting her lower lip and twirling a strand of her hair around her fingers. "Jaenelle, are you okay?" Sam queried. She looked up and he saw guilt in her eyes.

"I'll go tell Anne we won't need the coffee," she said as she got up.

Dean shot out his hand and grabbed her arm. "Jaenie, what's going on?"

She shook her head. "Not here. I'll go tell Anne. Wait here."

They both watched her as she walked over to her friend and talked to her. After a minute or two she came back to them and held out her hand for Dean.

"I'll show you, but you have to come with me," she said as he took her hand. She looked at Sam. "I've been keeping something from you. If I'd have known it was a factor in this I would've told you sooner, but…" She shook her head. "Drive me somewhere, Dean."

Dean and Sam shared glances, but got up all the same. Wary of what Jaenelle could possibly show them, they walked out of the library and back to the car. They piled in and drove to the location Jaenelle pointed them to.

When they arrived, they got out of the Impala and followed Jaenelle. They found themselves at the edge of a forest, trees rising up high above them. They walked for a few minutes until they reached a small round clearing in the forest. Scattered around the clearing were all sizes of rocks and even one large one that was embedded into the earth.

"Alright. What's going on Jaenie? What are we doing here?" Dean asked.

Jaenelle stood a few feet away from him and looked really solemn. "I'm sorry, Dean," she said softly.

"Sorry for what? What's going on?" Dean repeated.

"I've never told anyone except Mal. Other people would think I'm a freak or a total nutjob. So I kept it to myself all these years." She sighed and walked over to Dean. She rested her hand against his cheek. "I wanted to tell you so badly, but I was afraid. Since I found out, I've always had these scenarios play in my head where I would tell someone and that person would run away screaming. I didn't want you to do that."

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when her finger rested against his lips. "Shh. Let me talk. It's easier now that I've started." She stepped back from him and turned to face the large stone. "This is what only one person knows," she said as she glanced over her shoulder at them.

She turned back and extended her arm out in front of her. As she moved it upwards, the stone in the ground rose up and up, until she stopped moving her arm and brought it gently back down. Then she held both arms at her sides, palms forward, before she raised them both and all the stones in the clearing rose up.

Sam's mouth dropped open. Dean's face went slack. Both stood watching open-mouthed as Jaenelle lowered the stones back to the ground. She turned back to them. "I'm telekinetic," she said with a shrug.

Dean shook his head and looked at Sam. "Did you just see what I just saw?" Sam nodded. "Good, 'cause I almost thought I'd fallen asleep in the library. Weird dream."

"Oh, come on," Jaenelle exclaimed. "You fight demons and ghosts. Is it that farfetched to think that telekinesis and the likes can't also be possible?"

"Sorry," Sam mumbled. "It isn't. It's just… We've never seen it before. Kind of weird."

Jaenelle smirked. "That's how I felt when I was 11." She walked over to the big rock and sat down on it. Sam and Dean made their way over to her. "A year after my mom died, I was still grieving. I was missing her every day, dreamt about her every night. One day I got into a fight with my dad and when I went to my room, I wanted to slam the door behind me. Instead it flew closed on its own without me touching it. After that, every time I had a strong emotion something would move on its own."

"So you're telekinetic," Dean said slowly.

Jaenelle nodded. "It took me years to get it under control. I don't have to use my arms or move, I just have to think about it and it happens. It just illustrated my point just now."

"That you're telekinetic," Sam repeated.

Jaenelle rolled her eyes. "Stop saying it as if you never heard of it. Telekinesis, as you well know, is one of the better known supernatural abilities. It's also the most common one, along with premonitions." Sam noticed her eyes moved slightly into his direction. "Those people are called psychics. I'm not a psychic, thank God, but as you saw I can move things with my mind."

"That's why demons want you so bad," Dean spoke up. "Because you have this ability, they want you for their own selfish purpose."

"That explains why this demon went after you," Sam added. "It wanted your power so that it can be corporeal again."

Jaenelle nodded. "My thoughts exactly. The only thing I don't understand is how my telekinesis can help with that."

Dean raised his hands. "We don't need to know that. All we need to know is the demon's new target and how to kill it."

Jaenelle nodded. "I realize that, Dean, but I'm really curious to how I fit into its plan. Why me?"

Dean stared at her until she felt like he was burning a hole through her body. "Do you really want to know? Are you really interested to learn that it might need to possess you and take over your body or that it needs you to do something for it, like kill someone? Do you really want to know that?"

Jaenelle glared at him. "When you put it like that, no. But the fact remains that my telekinesis acts as a magnet. It pulls demons to me. If I can figure out why they would want to use me and my powers for their benefit, I'd need to know why. So that I can protect myself better. You won't be around to protect me 24/7, Dean. I have to do it on my own."

Dean's glare softened. "Jaenie," he started, but she stopped him by holding up her hand.

"I don't want to hear it. I'll figure out why demons want me after we've killed the thing that's threatening my home town." She walked past him, back into the tree line.

Sam made a face at Dean. "You're screwing it up," he said softly.

Dean gritted his teeth. "Shut up, Sam." He started walking to follow Jaenelle.

"No, Dean," Sam said and stopped his brother by taking hold of Dean's arm. "You're trying to protect her, I get it, but you'll only drive her away by acting like this. She's shown you that she can take care of herself."

Dean jerked his arm out of Sam's grasp. "You don't know what you're talking about, Sam." He started walking.

Sam followed at a fast pace, talking as he walked. "Dean, come on man. You're only pushing her away by over-protecting her. I know things got out of hand two years ago, but that doesn't mean it's going to happen again. She knows about these things now and can take care of herself."

"Shut up, Sam. This isn't about that," Dean said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, it so is," Sam continued. "You still haven't gotten over the fact that you couldn't stop her from being possessed by a demon two years ago. You're trying to make amends for what happened then. That's it, isn't it?"

Dean snorted. "Are you sure you studied law, Sam? It sounds more like you were a psych major."

Sam made a face at his brother. Before he could say anything, they reached the Impala and saw Jaenelle leaning against it, her hair once again hidden beneath the hoodie of her sweatshirt.

"Took you long enough," she said as she pushed away from the car. She glared at the both of them as she opened the backseat door. "I was about to walk back, but I'm feeling too lazy."

Before she slid into the backseat, Dean grabbed hold of her hand. He shot a look at Sam who walked to the passenger side door and slid into the car. Dean pulled Jaenelle away from the car and closed the door.

"Manhandling me will not help you, Dean," Jaenelle told him.

"I'm not manhandling you," he replied.

"Right, because if you want to hurt me all you have to do is imply that I'm not capable of protecting myself." She looked him in the eye and he could finally see the hurt in them.

"Listen, I'm sorry," he said, lowering his voice so that Sam wouldn't hear. "Maybe I am over-protective of you, so sue me. After what happened two years ago, I have a right to be."

Jaenelle crossed her arms in front of her chest. "We've been over this, Dean. It wasn't, isn't and never will be your fault. I told you this."

Dean shook his head. "Jaenelle, this isn't about that. I care about you and I'll do anything I can to keep you safe."

Jaenelle sighed and cupped his face in her hands. "That's the way you are, Dean. You always want to protect the ones you care about. Hell, you'd even risk your life to save complete strangers. That's what you're about and even though you can't accept it, you won't be able to protect everyone. There will be casualties."

"I don't want you to be one of those casualties, Jaenie," he whispered.

She smiled. "I won't be. Since I met you I've learned about the spirits and the demons and I know how to fend them off. I have you to thank for that."

He rested his forehead against hers. "I wish you could be ignorant of all of it again. I wish you could live a normal life."

Jaenelle snorted. "Please, I'm a telekinetic. Most of the time I feel as if I'm in a 'Charmed' episode."

Dean chuckled. "I get it. I'll try not to be over-protective of you anymore."

Jaenelle laughed. "Oh, you'll be over-protective of me. And I'll secretly love it. Just don't argue with me again or I'll kill you with my brain."

Dean let out a full-throated laugh. "Alright. I promise I won't doubt your judgment anymore." He cocked an eyebrow. "That is what you meant, right?"

She smiled. "Yeah. Very perceptive of you, Dean. And here I was thinking that Sam was the one with the people skills."

As she turned to open the door, Dean grabbed her and made her face him before pressing his lips against hers and giving her a searing kiss.

When someone coughed gently in the background, they broke apart and looked at Sam.

"I'm glad you two kissed and made up," he said, "but can we go now? We have a demon to kill."

Dean and Jaenelle laughed before both sliding into the car and making their way back to the Hamilton's cabin.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven 

When the threesome arrived back at the cabin, they found Malachi sitting outside on the porch with his laptop on his knee. He looked up when they pulled up and set the computer next to him on the bench.

"It's about damn time," he said as they climbed out of the car. "I was about to call the cops and tell them everything. They'd throw me in the loony bin, which wouldn't end up helping in any way, but at least I'd have tried."

Jaenelle reached him and gave him a hug. "Sorry. We were busy being threatened by the demon."

Malachi looked from Jaenelle to the brothers, shocked. "Wait. What?"

"We ran into the demon," Sam said.

"Or rather, it ran into us," Dean clarified. "It showed up when we were at Marsha's old house."

"But you're all okay, right?" Malachi asked, his eyes trying to find something on Jaenelle.

She smiled at him. "Yeah, we're fine. It removed its mark from me and threatened to go after someone else."

"It wasn't a threat," Sam said. "It's definitely going after someone else."

Jaenelle nodded. "Sorry. I always protect my brother by not telling him the complete truth."

Sam held Jaenelle's gaze with his. "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"You do?" Dean asked. "What have you not been telling me?"

Sam shook his head. "Never mind."

Malachi clapped his hands together. "So. About this demon," he said. "I think I know how to get rid of it."

All heads snapped into his direction. "What?" came from three mouths.

"While you guys have been God knows where, I did a little more research on the net. This ignis everto is an incorporeal demon in essence. It's only corporeal because it's taking hosts, you could say. You all have been looking in the wrong direction."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

Malachi leaned back against the railing of the cabin. "You've been trying to do the impossible. You thought this was the kind of demon you've never come across before. You were wrong. The ignis everto is just like any other demon."

Jaenelle shook her head. "Okay, I'm lost. What?"

Malachi rolled his eyes. "Let me explain it to you like this. There are various types of demons. Lower-level and upper-level, so to speak. From what Jaenie has told me about the demon who killed your mom, that's an upper-level demon. The ignis everto demon is a lower-level one, just like every single one you've encountered before. These are easily taken out. Just perform an exorcism and it'll go right back to where it came from."

"Wow, Mal," Jaenelle mumbled. "You really have been doing a lot of researching. I'm so proud of you."

"I think I've found my calling, sis. Researching the paranormal. Isn't there a profession about studying demons?"

She nodded. "Demonology. I'm thinking of doing that, too."

Sam and Dean shared a look and then started walking simultaneously. "I need a drink," said Dean. "Do you still have beer in the fridge, Mal?"

"Hey, no alcohol!" Jaenelle yelled at him.

"You are not the boss of me, missy," Dean called out to her over his shoulder.

"You're in my home, buddy, and what I say goes!" she retorted as she followed in his footsteps.

Dean stopped walking and turned to face her with a grin on his face. "Really? I thought this was your father's little getaway?"

She snorted. "Don't start that with me. I have issues with my dad, just like Mal does." She held up her hand. "And no, I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine by me," Dean said and motioned with his arm for her to pass.

Before they even took a step towards the door, a familiar smell wrapped itself around them. Dean and Jaenelle gagged before turning around. The demon stood at the other side of the road, staring at them.

"Sam!" Dean yelled. "Get back out here, now!"

Sam and Malachi came barreling out the door in a few seconds and stopped in the middle of their run when they spotted the demon.

"Holy shit!" Malachi exclaimed and stumbled back a few steps. He pointed at it. "It's a demon!"

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Jaenelle hissed at him. "Get inside the house."

Malachi looked affronted. "No way. I'm here to help."

Jaenelle whirled around and stalked over to Malachi. She grabbed him by the lapel. "Mal, get inside the house. It's surrounded with salt and demons can't get through that. Go inside and you'll be safe."

Malachi looked back and forth between the demon who remained standing at the other side of the road and Jaenelle. "What about you? I'm not leaving you."

"And you won't," Dean said as he grabbed Jaenelle's elbow. "You both are staying inside the house."

"I am not sitting on the sidelines, Dean. You are not fighting this thing alone," Jaenelle said through gritted teeth.

They reached the door and Dean shoved both Jaenelle and Malachi inside. He grabbed hold of the door and said, "Stay inside." He slammed the door in their faces.

Inside his head, he heard the demon say, "Come to me." When he turned around he saw Sam had already started walking to the demon.

"Sam!" Dean yelled. "What do you think you are doing?"

Sam stopped walking and looked over his shoulder at Dean. His eyes seemed vacant, as though he had been put under hypnosis. "I follow my master," he said in a monotonous tone.

Dean's eyes grew wide. "What the hell, dude?"

"Come to me, Sam," the demon repeated and once again Sam started walking towards it.

Dean rushed forward and grabbed his brother by the arms. "Stop walking, Sam. I don't know what's going on with you, but you're not going anywhere near it."

"Let him come to me or you all shall die," the demon told him.

From behind Dean, Malachi's frightened voice rang out. "It wants Sam? Why?"

"I thought I told you to stay inside," Dean hissed at Malachi and Jaenelle who stood on the porch again.

Jaenelle walked over to him. "If anyone needs to be inside the house right now, it's Sam," she said. "Get him in there and I'll help you get rid of the demon."

Dean shook his head. "No. I have no idea what it's done or is doing to Sam, but he is not leaving my sight."

Sam in the mean time was tugging feebly to release his arm from Dean's tight grasp. He kept mumbling, "I have to go. My master needs me."

"Can't you see, Dean?" Jaenelle snapped. "The demon's using the mark on Sam."

"What?" Dean asked.

Jaenelle shook her head. "It wants Sam now, Dean. It removed its mark from me and put it on Sam. The way he's acting now, that's how I was acting a few times when it tried to call me."

"Why didn't you tell me this before now?"

"Because I wasn't sure!" Jaenelle yelled as she tried to restrain Sam from leaving. "It usually called me when I was in bed and asleep. I thought I was having a nightmare."

Dean's eyes blazed with fire. "Thanks for telling me that sooner. Help me get Sam inside."

Before they could pull Sam away, the demon spoke again. "Come to me now, Sam. Run."

Sam finally broke free of Dean and started running towards the demon. Dean shot away from Jaenelle immediately, running after his brother.

"Oh God," he could barely hear Jaenelle say. "Dean! Look out!"

When Dean focused on the demon instead of his running brother, he saw something all too familiar.

Slowly, a dark essence seemed to float out of the demon's mouth and into the air surrounding it. When the last bit of the demon's essence escaped the mouth, the body it had inhabited changed form. Instead of it looking like the demon, it morphed back into the body of Sondra, Jaenelle's friend. She screamed in the background.

The gas-like cloud started drifting into Sam's direction, elongating and thinning out. The cloud was now a large sliver of distorted air.

Sam was still running, but stopped when the essence started making its way to him. He tilted his face upwards and opened his mouth.

The gaseous cloud came closer and closer to Sam and still Dean was too far away. He made a mad dash for his brother and pushed him out of the way right before the demon could possess him. Instead, it floated into him.

Sam awoke from his trance by the sound of two people screaming. The loudest scream was Jaenelle who stood nowhere in his eyesight. The second, softer one was Dean who stood rigid on the spot, eyes and mouth wide open as the demon took possession of him.

"Dean!" Sam shouted and jumped up. He watched helplessly as the last bit of the demon's essence trailed into his brother. For a moment, Dean's eyes flashed red then returned to their usual hazel color.

"No!" Sam yelled and dropped to his knees. The one thing he had always feared had happened. His brother had been taken by a demon. First his mother got killed by a demon then his girlfriend. Now his brother was possessed by one and he couldn't do a thing about it.

The demon inside Dean grinned. It opened Dean's mouth and laughed. "Oh, this is so much better," it said. "Now you will have no qualms to help me. I will kill your brother if you do not become my vessel."

Sam's eyes flashed with anger. "I won't let you have either one of us," he hissed before he started to move toward it.

Before he could do anything, the demon raised Dean's hand and motioned it away from him. Sam flew off his feet and backwards until his back hit a tree. He fell unconscious.

A few minutes later, something slapped his face. "Sam, man, wake up!" he heard a male voice yell at him. "Your brother needs your help, dude. Wake up!"

The voice sounded familiar to him, but he couldn't place it. When he finally opened his eyes, Malachi's face came into view.

"Thank God," Malachi sighed. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head. A flash of sharp pain emanated from the back of his head where it had hit the tree. "I'm fine," he lied. "Where's Dean?"

Malachi looked over his shoulder. Sam moved his body so he was leaning on his right arm and could see around behind Malachi.

Jaenelle was engaging the demon into a fight. She was using her telekinesis against it, protecting herself from all various kinds of objects that flew her way.

"She's been distracting it since you passed out. That way I managed to get to you and wake you up," Malachi explained.

Sam nodded, but regretted doing so immediately when another flash of pain shot through his head. "Smart move," he groaned as he got up. His legs felt weak and wobbly when he stood, but Malachi steadied him.

"We need to find a way to trap it," Sam told Malachi.

"How do you propose we do that?" Malachi asked. "Throw a rock at it? That's how Jaenelle got its attention in the first place. It just deflected it back to her."

Sam frowned. He watched as Jaenelle fought the demon and saw her grow more tired by the second. "We need to do something and fast. She's losing the fight."

"I can see that, Sherlock," Malachi sniped at him. "So what do we do?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't know."

Suddenly, a shot rang throughout the still twilight. Sam whipped his head into the direction it came from and saw Damon standing on the porch with a rifle in his hands.

"No!" Sam shouted. "That's my brother!"

He looked back at the demon and saw it arch its back as if in pain. It stopped fighting Jaenelle and turned to Damon. "How foolish," it said with Dean's voice. "A bullet won't hurt me."

Damon reloaded the rifle. "That's true," the older man said, "but I'm not trying to hurt you." He shot off another round. The demon deflected it easily.

Behind the demon's back, Jaenelle stood bent over, trying to catch her breath. She nodded at her father, then ran to Sam and Malachi.

"Are you okay?" she asked Sam when she reached them.

"I'm fine," he repeated. "What's your father doing?"

She shook her head. "No time to explain. Come on," she said and took hold of his arm. She started pulling him away towards the side of the house.

"Wait a minute," Sam said as he pulled himself out of Jaenelle's grip. "We have to help Dean."

Jaenelle shot him a look. "If you're going to stand there and fight me, you won't be helping Dean. Now come on."

He looked back at Dean and saw that the demon was starting to take a true hold on his brother. Dean's face showed the first signs of the lava-like skin they'd seen on Sondra's body and his eyes were starting to glow red.

"What's your plan?" he asked.

Jaenelle made a sound that reminded him of a growl. "Sam, just come on." She pulled on his hand and he started walking. "My dad's distracting the demon for us so that we can get inside and get the things we need to create a circle and trap it in it."

Sam's mind was too much on Dean that he didn't understand. So he asked, "What?"

A low hanging branch slapped against his cheek out of nowhere. He grimaced, but kept walking backwards, his eyes on Dean.

"You want to help Dean, Sam? Then we need to get inside and get my things. We set up a circle with my powers, we successfully trap it inside it and you can do the exorcism. That's the only way this will work," Jaenelle explained to him.

Sam stopped walking. Dean was now hidden by the cabin, out of Sam's sight, and he didn't like it one bit. "I'm not letting Dean out of my sight. I need to see that he's still there."

Jaenelle whipped around and slapped him on the cheek. The sound seemed to echo around them. "Sam! Do you want to save your brother or not?" she yelled at him.

"Of course I do!" he yelled back. "But I'm not going inside while he's out here being possessed by a demon!"

Jaenelle threw her hands up in the air. "Fine. Go to him. Fight the demon. Or don't fight it because it's your brother it's possessing. Do you think I like the fact that it took Dean? No, I don't. Now let's go and get the stuff."

Sam glared at Jaenelle then turned and ran back towards Dean. He heard her yell his name behind him, but he didn't listen. Even though he was weak and his head felt like it would split open, he kept on running until he was only a few feet away from the demon.

"Dean!" he shouted over the gunshots ringing through the air. "Dean, I know you're still in there! Talk to me!"

Dean laughed. "Oh, he is here, Sam, but he can't talk right now. He is trapped in his own body, not able to do anything at all." It deflected another bullet fired by Damon. "He has sacrificed himself for you, Sam. Such love he has for you. Quite the big brother."

"You let him go, you evil son-of-a-bitch!" Sam yelled at him. "You wanted me, didn't you? Then come and get me!"

The demon flicked a wrist and Sam heard the shattering of glass. When he glanced a look, Damon and the window to the living room were gone. Cold ice wrapped around his heart.

"You are willing to sacrifice yourself for your brother, too?" the demon asked. "Such loyalty. Such love. Too bad it won't do you any good."

"Sam!" he heard Jaenelle shout. "Duck!"

Without thinking about it, Sam ducked down to the ground as something started flying over his head. Salt rained down on him as a great amount of it flew over him towards the demon.

"I didn't get the salt all around him, Sam!" Jaenelle called out to him.

He raised his head and saw that the salt had formed a semi-circle around the demon. He got up as fast as he could and ran to Jaenelle who was holding a bag of salt. Yanking it out of her hands, he turned back toward the demon and was immediately thrown back, crashing into Jaenelle and sending both of them to the ground.

Jaenelle groaned underneath him. "You have to finish the circle, Sam. I'll distract it enough for you to finish it."

"No," he said as he got off of her. "You stay here."

"And what are you going to do? It has powers you can't match, Sam." She looked him in the eye. "Maybe if you accept that you have powers too, you could do it. For now, I'm the one who," she stopped speaking when the porch bench flew their way. They both ducked and it went flying over their heads.

"I'm the one who has powers we can use right now," she finished her sentence.

"No," Sam repeated. "You've already been battling this thing for too long. Let me handle it."

"How?" she exclaimed, her voice carrying a hint of restrained panic.

Sam looked to where the demon was. "By giving myself up." He stood up and walked away from her. He felt her reaching for him, but he pulled his arm away before she could get hold of him. He put his hands in his jean pockets and pulled them out immediately.

"Alright!" he yelled. "I give up!" He held his hands up in the air. "Let my brother go and I'll help you."

Dean's body was starting to really look like the demon. His skin was now almost two-thirds like that of the demon and his eyes were definitely burning red. His nails had elongated a few inches and he seemed taller now, too.

"Let my brother go," he repeated as he walked towards it.

"How touching that you would sacrifice yourself and the world for your brother's life," the demon said in its own voice.

Sam kept moving closer and shrugged. "He's my family. I'd do anything for him."

"Even die?" the demon asked.

Sam nodded. "Even die."

"Then come, Sam, and die."

He walked up to the demon and moved around it. "So why me?" he asked. "Why do you need me?"

The demon moved as he moved. "Because you have great power inside you, Samuel. I need that to retake my own form and cause chaos over the world. I will be all powerful again."

Sam put his hands in his pockets. "I don't have any powers," he stated.

"Are you sure about that?" the demon asked.

Sam frowned. He thought of the nightmares he was having lately and wondered for a second if that's all they were – nightmares. Shaking it off, he got his hands out of his pockets and opened them.

"So what do I need to do?" he asked.

The demon took a step closer to him. "I will leave your brother's body and claim yours. Then it's only a matter of time." It took another step toward him and stopped as if hitting an invisible wall. It managed to look confused for a second before it roared.

Sam smiled and brought up his hands. Salt clung to his palms. "Tricked you."

"NO!" the demon roared. "Your brother will die now!"

"I don't think so," came Jaenelle's voice from the left. She walked over to them with a book in her hands. She handed it already opened to Sam.

He looked down at the page she had it opened for him and saw the right incantation for the exorcism. Smiling, he looked up at the demon. "Say goodbye, asshole." He started reciting the Latin incantation.

Two hours later, Sam was tiring. He could barely hold his concentration long enough to finish the incantation another time. Stammering, he looked between the book's page and his brother who was writhing inside the circle.

When he uttered the last word of the incantation for what felt like the thousandth time, Dean's head shot back and the demon shot out of his mouth. It took some time until finally everything was gone and Dean's body went limp.

Sam threw the book to the ground and ran to his brother. He scooped him up in his arms and shook him. "Dean," he said, his voice quavering, "Dean, wake up."

Jaenelle dropped down beside him. She raised a hand and brought it down to rest on Dean's cheek. A lone tear slid down hers. "I hope we weren't too late," she whispered.

Sam didn't respond. He kept shaking Dean, wanting him to wake up.

"He won't wake up," Damon said as he stumbled over to them.

Sam shot his head up to look at Damon. "No. He'll wake up. He has to."

Damon shook his head. "That first shot I fired into his back was a tranquilizer. I'd thought maybe it would knock the demon out, but that didn't work."

Sam stared up at Damon, confused. "You shot him with a tranquilizer?"

Damon nodded. "Sorry, son."

Jaenelle placed her middle and index finger on Dean's neck and visibly relaxed. "He's got a pulse, Sam. It's weak, but it's there."

Sam let a tear escape him. His brother was going to be alright.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve 

It wasn't until the next day before Dean finally awoke. When he did, his first thought was of Sam. He sat up in bed and immediately fell back down when stars started to dance in front of his eyes.

"Oh God," he groaned and hid his eyes beneath his hand. The light was hurting his eyes and the world seemed to be spinning.

"You're awake," a soft female voice sounded from somewhere inside the room. He could hear the soft sounds of feet walking on the carpet in the room.

"Awake and feeling as if I drank way too much," he retorted with a gravelly voice.

Jaenellle chuckled softly. She sat down next to him on the bed. She touched his forehead. "You have a temperature. Don't be your typical self and act as if you're fine. Just stay in bed."

Dean groaned again and clenched his eyes closed. "Trust me, I wasn't thinking of getting out of bed at all." He paused. "Where's Sam?"

Jaenelle's hand left his forehead. "I'll go get him."

He could feel her get up and then walk over to the door. It opened and closed and he was alone in the room. He opened his eyes and let them slowly adjust to the light. It still hurt, but he needed to see. Had to know if his brother was alright. He sat up just as the door opened again.

"Dean," Sam scolded, "Lay back down."

Dean frowned at Sam. "I'm fine."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "No, you're not." He walked over to his brother and sat down on the chair at the desk next to the bed. "You need to rest, Dean."

"I'm fine," Dean repeated. "It feels as if someone stuck a needle in my eye, but that can be fixed with an aspirin."

When he tried to sit up some more, Sam pushed him gently back down. "Dean, a demon possessed you and you were hit by a tranquilizer. You need to give your body time to recover."

Memories of what had happened came flooding back to Dean. Sam being controlled by the demon and walking to it, him running after him to stop him. Then, nothing.

He turned his head to look at Sam. "You're alright, aren't you?"

Sam smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks to you and the Hamiltons."

Dean's vision got blurry, so he lay back down. "What happened?" he asked.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Dean scrunched up his face. "You were going to the demon and I was running after you. I pushed you out of the way and then nothing."

"That's because the demon possessed you," Sam told him. "It wanted me, but when you pushed me out of the way, it went into you."

Dean growled low in his throat. "Dammit! A demon actually got to me?"

Sam shrugged. "Sorry, Dean," he said, "but at least you're okay now, right? All of them, Jaenelle, Malachi and Damon helped me to trap the demon in a circle of salt. Then I performed an exorcism. I had to recite the incantation for over two hours before the demon finally left you."

Dean tried to swallow but found he couldn't. His throat was dry and a lump had formed. Never in his most horrific nightmares had he imagined that he would be taken by a demon. He'd rather have died than been possessed.

The door opened and Jaenelle stepped in with a tray in her hands. As she walked over to him, she said, "Just so you know, Dean, this isn't going to be a recurring thing. Breakfast in bed is only for when you've just recently been used for evil purposes." She smiled down at him when she stopped at the foot of the bed. She lifted the tray several inches to show it to him. "Toast, eggs, bacon, pancakes and sausages. I went a little crazy."

Sam chuckled. "Apparently she cooks when she's worrying," he told his brother. "I think I'll be rolling out of here when we finally leave."

Dean looked between the two and felt his stomach rumble at the sight of food. It also wanted to revolt. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to eat," he said.

"Sit up," Jaenelle told him with a smile. "You need to eat."

He frowned, but did as she told him. He was feeling far too weak to fight. When he sat up straight, she put the tray over his lap and sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked at her and down to the food on the tray.

Jaenelle laughed. "Oh, hell no, Dean. I am not going to feed you. You're not paralyzed."

Dean shrugged. "It was worth a try," he said and picked up the fork to spear a sausage on it. He raised it up to his face and took a small bite. When his stomach told him it needed more, he attacked the food on the table.

With his mouth full of sausage, he asked Sam, "So what happened? I want details."

And Sam told him. Jaenelle filled in some of the gaps of what she had been doing and after half an hour Dean had finished his breakfast and the two had stopped talking.

"So what you're trying to tell me," he said as he leaned back and looked between the two, "is that my skin was starting to look like the demon's?" He looked around him frantically. "Where's a mirror?"

Sam smiled and shook his head. Jaenelle stared at him. "You're lucky you just woke up out of a fever or I would've hit you upside the head."

Dean grinned at her. "I'm fine, Jaenie. A bit of a headache, but otherwise fine."

"And you also still have a temperature." She took the tray and stood up straight. "You'd better get some more sleep."

Dean reached out his hand and stopped her from walking away. He looked deeply into her eyes when he said, "Thank you." She smiled at him before leaving the room.

Sam coughed. Dean looked at him. "What's up, dude?"

Sam smiled. "Nothing. I just think Jaenelle's right. You need rest."

"Yeah, yeah. But answer me this first." He looked his brother in the eye. "How are you?"

Sam looked down at the ground. "I'm fine, but let's just say I now know how you felt two years ago with Jaenelle."

The two brothers shared a look. "Rest," Sam told his brother before he got out of the chair and walked out the door.

Three days later, Jaenelle finally deemed Dean healthy enough to get out of bed. Dressed in his own clothes again, he walked through the hallway to the living room where Sam, Damon and Malachi sat drinking coffee.

Malachi grinned up at him. "And he walks again," he said. "How you feeling?"

Dean grinned back at him. "I'm fine." He sat down on the couch next to his brother.

Silence enveloped the room when he sat and he looked at everyone, his gaze ending on Jaenelle. He could see in her eyes the painful reality. Now that he was feeling alright again, he would be leaving. The truth of it slammed into him so fiercely that he had trouble breathing for a moment.

"Are you sure you feel up to travelling, Dean?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded. "I'm fine." It wasn't true. Physically he felt good, but he didn't want to leave. The thought of leaving Jaenelle again was doing nasty things to his stomach.

Sam got up. "Then we'd better leave now." He turned to Damon. "Thanks for everything, Damon."

Damon rose from his chair and shook Sam's hand. "No, thank you, Sam." The older man smiled up at him.

As Sam said goodbye to Damon and Malachi, Jaenelle walked with Dean outside. She leaned against the railing. "This will never get easy, will it?"

Dean shook his head. "No." He walked up to her and cupped his face in her hands. "It's never easy." He brought his face down to hers and gave her a gentle, lingering kiss.

When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers. "I know how you feel now," Jaenelle mumbled.

"About what?" he asked.

"Wanting to protect me from demons." She paused. "God, I was so scared when that demon took you. I just wanted to rewind time and do it all over again."

Dean kissed her forehead and held her close. "I'm fine, Jaenie. You were at my side the entire time. You saved my ass."

"I guess we're even now," she said with the hint of a smile in her voice.

They were silent for a while, just holding each other before Dean said, "If my dad hadn't pulled me away two years ago, I would've stayed," Dean whispered. "I would've stayed with you." There was so much more buried in his voice and that single sentence. Jaenelle caught onto it.

Jaenelle broke out of his embrace and cupped his face in her hands. "I know. But it's not your path to follow, Dean. Not yet." She gazed into his eyes and he read the emotions in them, could feel them in his heart. "You have to find out what killed your mom, what killed Sam's girlfriend. Before you do that, you'll never be able to live a normal life. You'll always be looking over your shoulder, waiting for it to strike again and kill the one you love. Until then, you won't be able to settle down." The corners of her mouth lifted up into a small smile. "You deserve a normal life. You deserve to be loved." Tears slid silently down his cheeks and she wiped them gently away with her thumbs. She kissed him tenderly, her lips resting gently against his. He closed his eyes and savored the feel of her soft lips, stored the feel of the touch of her hands on his face in his brain.

When she pulled back from him and lowered her arms, he grabbed her hands. "Jaenie, I," he started but stopped when she put a finger against his lips.

"Shh. Don't say it," she whispered. A full smile morphed her face from pretty to beautiful. "I know."

The three other men decided at that point to come through the door. Dean turned his head so they wouldn't see his tear-filled eyes and quickly blinked them away.

"Sam," Jaenelle said as she walked up to him. She hugged him. "Thank you for everything."

"No," Sam replied. "Thank you." They shared a moment of understanding then broke apart.

Dean turned to Damon who gave him a fatherly hug. "You take care of yourself and your brother, Dean. You'll find your father, I know it. And you will get rid of the demon who killed your mother."

Dean smiled. "What makes you so sure?" he asked.

Damon beamed at him. "Because you know what you're doing." He paused. "You saved my daughter again. I don't know how to repay you."

Dean laid a hand on Damon's shoulder. "Just take care of her until I get back." He looked at Jaenelle who was walking Sam to the car. "I will be back."

Damon's smile was dazzling. "I'm very happy to hear that."

"I'm not too happy about it," Malachi cut in. "I mean, if you come back, you'll stay, right? I don't know if I can live with you being here all the time. We might kill each other."

Dean laughed and slapped the younger man on the back. "Shut up, Mal." He took Malachi's hand. "Take care of yourself."

Malachi nodded. "And Jaenelle." He grinned. "Because you don't care about me. All you care about is Jaenelle."

Dean rolled his eyes and started walking to the Impala. He waved at Mal and Damon over his shoulder. "Bye, now!" he called out to them.

When he reached the car, Sam turned his head to look at him. "Ready to go?" he asked.

Dean nodded, but his eyes were on Jaenelle. "Yeah. Let's go find dad."

Jaenelle smiled at him. "You'll find him, I'm sure of it," she told him.

He smiled back at her. She took the few steps that separated them and wrapped her arms around him. "Stay safe, Dean," she murmured against his chest.

"You, too," he whispered into her hair.

She backed away from him and looked at him. A tear slid down her cheek. "You'd better go before this gets even harder," she murmured.

All he could do was nod. She started walking past him back to her father and brother, but he stopped her and pulled her to him. He kissed her for what felt like would be the last time and made it last. Everything that he felt for her, everything that he never voiced, he let show in his kiss. He wanted her to know how he felt and if he couldn't say it, he'd show it to her in another way.

When he pulled away from her, fresh tears were trickling down her cheeks. She pushed at his chest. "Go," she whispered and turned. She walked back to her family.

Dean slid into the passenger seat and looked into to the side mirror. Jaenelle was standing with her father and brother holding her, watching the car. Sam started the engine and they were off. Dean felt the urge to turn around and watch Jaenelle as they drove away, but he couldn't. It would only hurt that much more.

When they rounded the corner onto the main road, the Hamilton family completely vanished from view. His heart constricted.

Sam was silent. For once, he didn't ask his brother how he was feeling. For once, he didn't need to. Dean's emotions were clear on his face. So he turned the music on and just drove. To find their father and kill the demon. And maybe when they'd done that, Dean would be able to come back, as he'd promised.


End file.
